Rule Breaking
by chel567
Summary: AU Fic. Tris & Tobias are both living in Chicago, and with a lot of mutual friends, they meet at Tris's bar. Will they ever confess their feelings for each other as their friendship grows? And what will happen when their secrets come out? Rated M, sex & language
1. Chapter 1

**Thank you to everyone for your reviews and favorites of my first one shot! I was so nervous to post, and appreciate everyone who took the time to read it and comment! It has given me the guts to post a longer story that I wrote a while back. I hope you enjoy**

 **I do not own Divergent, all characters and snippets from that series belong to Veronica Roth.**

TOBIAS

I listen to Shauna whine my name for what must be the 7th time since she's been here. "Four! Please come with us!"

She's perched on the edge of Zeke's desk, which is across from mine. Zeke is in a desk chair behind her, leaning back casually. "You've been here for how long now? 5 months? And you still haven't gone out with us once."

I sigh. I know I really should get out with my friends. There's no reason I shouldn't. Coming home to them was my reason for returning to Chicago after all. Part of me still feels like a bit of an outsider. I'm new to our intelligence unit, a unit in the Chicago Police Department.

"Where are you going?" I ask them, not in the mood for a loud club or college kid hang out.

"You guys are still convincing this guy to get out? When are you going to give up?" I hear Detective Amar Moore say from his desk in the corner.

Shauna rolls her eyes. "He'll give in to us eventually. We spent plenty of time convincing him to do shit with us in high school." She laughs as she says it, probably remembering a lot of dumb shit I tagged along for, usually led by Zeke.

"Look, it's a chill place. You can sit back, enjoy some sports on TV, just chill. It's pretty new, and Uriah is friends with the owner," Zeke offers, knowing he's describing my preferred type of place.

Uriah comes bounding up the stairs, in his street uniform, his shoes heavy on the tile floor. Uriah, being two years younger than us and Zeke's little brother, is still working the beat. Zeke made detective and floated around a couple units before making the Intelligence Unit. I, after moving to Chicago, was hired into the Intelligence Unit because of my previous work experience in Indianapolis. And it didn't hurt that Zeke gave me a good recommendation that went a long way with his Sergeant.

"Did you finally convince Four to go with us?" When he gets no real response from Shauna and Zeke, he turns towards me. "Man, come on. I promise Dauntless in a hot place."

"Dauntless, eh?" Sergeant Reynolds says as he comes out of his office. "You better be damn good customers in there."

I raise a curious eyebrow at Zeke. "Don't worry, Sergeant, Uriah's been friends with Tris for years," he explains.

Reynolds stops in his track and turns to face Uriah, surprised. "That so? What kind of friends?" I notice his tone is almost defensive, protective, like someone just said something about his daughter.

"Just friends," Uriah says, holding his hands up in defense. "We met in high school, actually. My dad, her mom, same hospital, same time." He says it with a hint of sadness in his voice, but tries to hide it with a nonchalant shrug.

Reynolds nods, and pats a hand on Uriah's shoulder. "Alright then."

"Four," I hear Moore say over to me. "You should go. It's a blue bar." He's referring to what everyone in Chicago calls bars where cops are welcomed. I've passed Dauntless, now that I think of it, and it's not far from our precinct. He looks over at Zeke and Uriah. "When you're there, you take care of that place, understood?" I see them both nod in agreement.

"Who's your friend, Uriah? Is she a cop?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "No. She's uh… Sergeant Prior's daughter."

I freeze. Everyone in the city of Chicago knows who Sgt. Prior is. He was the leader of the Intelligence Unit before he was killed in the line of duty. Sgt. Prior was possibly one of the most influential people in the Chicago Police Department, ever. He was known for being tough on his unit, but fair and generous to them also. A lot of good police came out from under him and moved onto higher positions in the CPD, because of what he taught them, and because his recommendation went a long way. I didn't personally know Sgt. Prior; his death had occurred before I returned to Chicago. But still, I heard story upon story about him and recently, on the anniversary of his death a couple months ago, there had been a ceremony for him that I had attended. I often heard Reynolds and Moore pass back stories or recall past cases, and they involved Prior. Prior had been with them in the academy, started out as beat cops, and was Moore's partner for years before climbing through the ranks to lead the Intelligence Unit.

"I didn't know you were friends with her in high school." It comes out for as a question than a statement, but I had never heard Zeke or Uriah mention her. "Did she go to Central?" I say, referring to the high school that Zeke, Uriah, Shauna, and I had attended.

"No, she went to South. I met her when my dad was sick, so you and Zeke were at college." I remember when Zeke's dad was declining, and it was one of the only things that got me to come home during the 8 years I spent in Indianapolis. I made a couple visits to see him, and then came back for his funeral. That was the last time I was here. "Her mom was sick, too. We both were at the hospital a lot, and we were both… ya know… struggling." He searches for his words, and I can tell his relationship with Tris was probably something that meant a lot to both of them, going through that tragedy together.

"They passed away two months apart." Uriah's voice is getting softer, probably remembering the pain both of them felt and experienced together. "We were just kids, ya know?"

I nod. "Hey man, I'm sure she-" but he cuts me off.

"Don't feed me some sympathy bullshit." I know he means it. But then his eyes twinkle. "Just get your ass to the bar tonight."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When I approach the building from the outside, I see the natural, laid back look of the old brick on the outside walls. It looks like your typical Chicago building. When I enter, I find myself in a large open room. The ceiling is somewhat high and the pipes and ductwork are exposed. There's a long bar in the middle of the room lined with bar stools, and gleaming wooden tables are scattered through the room, while booths are placed along the walls. There's a few leather armchairs and a cough off to one end of the bar, with a coffee table in the middle of them. The walls look like antique, original wood, and hung throughout them are Chicago sports teams' memorabilia and souvenirs. Higher on the walls and behind the bar are multiple flat screen TVs, all showing a different channel or event.

I'm genuinely in awe of the building, so I'm paused at the door for a moment, and then I hear my name called. I turn towards the set of leather seats and the couch, and I move towards them, sinking in a seat next to Uriah, who already has a beer on the table for me.

"I had faith you'd show up," he says with a smile, and I thank him.

Uriah and Zeke are the only thing I have left that resembles family, along with their mother, Hana. I spent most of my high school years at their home, staying for dinner and often staying the night. When I left Chicago at 18 for college, I only returned home to see their parents, and when Hana came to visit, she always included me. Even when Zeke returned and I stayed in Indianapolis, Hana sent me Christmas cards, birthday gifts, and even came to visit a few times. 'My third son' she would call me. When I finally moved back to Chicago, the first words she whispered when she saw me were 'All my boys, back together.'

I take a swig of the beer and a girl who appears to fall in our age range comes over to our table. She's dressed casually, but has a small apron on her waist indicating she's a waitress. "Uri," she calls as she gets near. "Need anything?"

I see Uriah shake his head. "Nah, we're good. But hey," he waves her to come closer. "This is my friend, Four."

At Uriah's request she comes closer, her dark eyes bright with friendliness. I smile and offer a slight wave, but embrace her handshake when she offers it to me. "Christina," she says in a welcoming tone. "I work here, obviously. And I'm a friend of Uriah's."

"Is Tris here?" Uriah asks from beside me.

Christina shakes her head, than glances at the clock over by the bar. "She should be here in a half hour or so. I'll let her know you're here." She turns to get up and leave, and as she walks away she hollers over her shoulder back towards our group, "Let me know if you need anything."

Over the next half hour our group grows. Shauna, who works as a physical therapist, has invited a few of her friends and her sister, Lynn. Uriah's partner, Will, and a few other detectives from the district arrive. Some of them I recognize, but others I haven't met yet.

I move towards the bar later, prepared to buy a round of drinks for our group. I'm not sure how much longer I'll stay, but both Zeke and Uriah have bought a round, and it's only right to return the favor. I rest my forearms on the bar and I'm greeted by a new bartender, not Christina. "Hey," she says with a friendly smile. "What do you need?"

I freeze for a moment, forgetting the list of drinks I had in my head, because she's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Her blonde hair is pulled off her face in a messy ponytail, and her gray eyes and smile radiate happiness, friendliness. "Um… two Jack and Coke's, a Bud Light, a vodka tonic, and two Heinekens." I finally spit out. Her eyes are focused on mine as she listens to me ramble.

She smiles at me again. "Alright, just a second."

I watch her effortlessly move behind the bar, grabbing bottles without looking and pouring gracefully, then opening the beer bottles without even pausing. Her movements are fluid and I realize I've never seen someone move so naturally. Her slender limbs move effortlessly from one place to the next. She's clearly got this place memorized.

"There ya go," she says as she places the last bottle on the bar in front of me, and I pull my card out of my wallet and hand it to her.

"You can open a tab," I say suddenly. I guess I anticipate staying a while.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It's a couple hours later when I realize how long I've been here, and that I'm surprised that I'm actually having a good time being surrounded by all these people. Outings to bars weren't really enjoyable in Indianapolis. Maybe at first, when Zeke and I were enjoying our 21st birthdays, but I eventually got sick of the crowds, noises, drunken grinding. And the girls. Oh God, the drunk, throw themselves at me, girls. It was too much for me most of the time, or all of the time.

I'm passing the bar on the way back from the bathroom when I hear her voice. "You're new here," she says without doubt. When my eyes find the source of the comment, I find the blonde bartender. I barely even notice her from where she stands behind the bar, pulling bottles out of box and switching out some empty ones on the shelves. She looks comfortable, at home, behind the bar. Her outfit is simple, yet extremely flattering on her slender frame. Denim jeans hug her legs, and a loose, black tank top hangs from her shoulders, down her waist, flowing perfectly.

She doesn't stop her movement, so I'm not sure how to respond. "Yeah, I am," I say simply.

"You're a cop," she says next, again not doubting herself.

"Good guess. I'm sure you deduced that from my friends."

She looks up at me with laughter in her eyes and a smile on her face. "I guessed it, because you have cop written all over you. And, not ALL you friends are cops."

"Written all over me?"

"Honey, I've been around cops my whole life. I could pick them out of a crowd." She's not being cocky, just explaining herself to me.

I laugh. "Well yeah, I am. I work in Intelligence. Four. My name is Four."

She finally makes eye contact with me, her grey eyes staring straight into mine, and smiles largely, then sticks her hand out. "I'm Tris. Welcome to Dauntless."


	2. Chapter 2

It's much easier for Shauna and Zeke to convince me to go out the following weekend. We had a family lunch at Zeke's mom, Hana's, house, and Shauna had suggested they go to Dauntless later to hang out. Apparently, they enjoy sitting and lounging at Dauntless, talking with friends on a pretty regular basis. Or at least more than I was aware.

"What time are you going there?" I ask casually, trying not to sound too excited. I can't help my curiosity, though. Tris caught my attention, she intrigued me. Uriah had pointed her out to me later that night, apologizing for not formally introducing us. She'd been pretty busy, and he didn't like to get in her way when the bar was packed.

Zeke smiles at my question. "Maybe around 9?" he proposes as he looks to Shauna.

She shrugs. "Whenever. You coming with, Four?"

I attempt to shrug nonchalantly as I get up from my seat. "Sure, why not?" Before I turn away from them, I see the pair exchange smiles at my willingness to join them. I even notice Hana, Zeke's mom, perk up at the mention of our plans, and she tells me so when we head out the door a bit later. If they noticed the way my eyes were drawn to Tris, they don't comment on it.

That night, Dauntless has what Uriah describes as its "usual crowd". He points out a few people he knows that frequent the bar, and everyone seems pretty comfortable there, as if they know what to expect. Tonight, he heads straight for the bar and takes a seat on an empty stool, motioning for the rest of us to join him.

Tris is at the end of the bar, talking to a customer when we take our seats. I nonchalantly let my eyes run over her body, the way her blonde hair hangs down her back as she shakes her hand through it, and how her clothes are casual, and flattering, but not too skimpy or revealing. She leaves just enough to the imagination.

When she turns, I see a genuine, jaw dropping smile on her face that reaches her eyes. "Hey, guys," she says in greeting. "What are you drinking tonight?"

"Heineken," Uriah says first, then juts his fist in my direction. "This is Four. I meant to introduce you to him last weekend, but shit was crazy, you were busy… you know."

Tris smiles and lets her eyes flit to me. "We met. Briefly, but we met."

I just nod nervously in agreement. "Yeah."

"Jake and Coke again?" she asks, recalling what I drank. "Or something else?"

I swallow, forgetting what I had planned to order and shocked she remembered my drink. "Oh…" I stumble through my words. "Just give me a Sam Adams."

She obliges before moving on to Zeke and Shauna, giving them each a drink, and Shauna starts to probe her about her nights off.

"I need to hire someone else before I can take a night off," she says with a laugh. "Christina's coming in soon, and she's supposed to look through some applications with me tomorrow… so we'll see." She doesn't sound hopeful.

"You need a break some nights," Shauna states matter of factly, and Uriah sighs in agreement.

"Any of you are welcome to apply!" she jokingly shouts at us with extended arms before moving down the bar to wait on a new customer.

My eyes are drawn to her, watching again how effortlessly she moves, how she seems to have the entire space memorized and can do things without even looking. Every once and a while, I notice that she's subtly moving to the music, swinging her hips or bobbing her head, her lips lightly singing the lyrics.

"Four. Dude." I hear Zeke call my name, and my head whips around.

"Huh?"

"I've been talking to you! Where are you, man?"

I shrug and try to play it off, hoping they didn't catch me watching Tris. "Guess I'm not used to all this social time."

Uriah eyes me up and down, trying to decide how exactly he should read my actions. His smug look on his face starts to tell me he's suspicious, but we're interrupted when Tris returns to us.

"So," she says matter-of-factly. "Why the name?" She looks up straight at me, her eyes piercing me. "Four?" She says my name questioningly, like she can't quite make it fit.

"Just a nick name," I respond, not wanting to really explain how I got it.

She nods while narrowing her eyes at me, and I laugh at her suspicious look.

"Who gave it to you?"

"Me!" Zeke exclaims from next to me, leaning over the bar a bit. "Found out in the high school locker room… he's only four inches big!" He separates his thumb and forefinger a few inches, exaggerating the very not true size of my penis he just shared with everyone.

Tris throws her head back in laughter as she clutches her chest. Next to me, Uriah shakes his head with a chuckle, but Zeke keeps up the act. "I'm serious! I heard many complaints from women over the years."

"Many?" Tris probes as she looks at me with her eyebrows raised, a hint of flirtation in her eyes.

I roll my eyes at Zeke before looking back to her. "No." In reality, I haven't been with a lot of women and I've had even less girlfriends, but Tris doesn't need to get the impression that I'm a ladies man or that I sleep around, because neither is true.

"He's right. Four can rarely land a woman." Surprised that Zeke was witty enough to make a joke of that, I groan and drop my head in my hands.

I hear a long sigh, which I'm positive is coming from Tris, and when I look up at her, she offers a sly smile. "I find that hard to believe," she says, meeting my eyes with a playful look in hers. And then she turns, heading to a cooler to grab some drinks, the familiar clink of the bottles following her.

Beside me, Uriah lets out a huff. "Well, she shut you up, Zeke."

I notice on the other side of me, Zeke is rolling his eyes. "Fuckin' Prior," he mumbles with a slight laugh, obviously feeling burned that Tris shut down his joke.

"Really, though," Tris continues when she returns. "Nothing to share about your mysterious name, _Four?"_

I laugh as I look down at the beer in my hands, picking at the paper label a bit. "Not tonight." I shake my head as her hopeful smile reaches somewhere inside of me. A part of me starts to feel like maybe she could be someone I would reveal some of my history to, and that's something I've never felt before.

"Someday?" she says, cocking her head to the side.

I chuckle, having to keep my eyes looking down at the bar so that I don't look like a total wuss. "Yeah, maybe someday."

It takes a moment after Tris walks away again for Zeke to smack me on the shoulder. "What the fuck is that, dude?" he says with a cock of his head.

"What?" I ask defensively, shrugging my shoulders.

He raises his eyebrows, as if my question is stupid. "You're flirting with Tris."

"No, I'm not!"

"Bro… you need to watch yourself." His head shakes as if he's concerned, and speechless at my lack of awareness for whatever he's talking about.

I give him a blank look, waiting for an explanation. It's not often that Zeke leaves me wondering about things, because being mysterious isn't really his style. Usually, he spits out exactly what he wants to say.

"Reynolds is like a father to her."

I remember the look Reynolds and Moore both had on their faces when Uriah and Zeke were talking about Dauntless, and then about Tris. They were protective, concerned, and then later, it almost seemed that talking about her made them happy, proud.

I shake my head, ridding it of his suggestions. "Nah, it's nothing." Even though I know that I am intrigued by Tris, and there is a strong pull of attraction, I barely know her. This is only the second time I've met her, so what if we were being friendly? She probably acts just as friendly with him and Uriah.

"Plus, Uriah would kick your ass if shit went south between you two."

That statement makes me chuckle. "Uriah cannot kick my ass."

"You'd be surprised, man. He's always been close with Tris, in a way that Mom and I could never really reach him. Even though he's a goofball and always cracking jokes… there's a bond between him and Tris that's different." He wipes some sweat off of the bottle in front of him, erasing the lines it had made on the glass. "They went through some shit together… you know…" he says, referring to the time that their father and Tris's mother were sick together. "It's just different, I guess. You probably haven't seen that side of him yet because you've never been around the two of them. But they look out for each other."

"I'm not trying to get in the way of that, Zeke," I say more serious this time. I know that their dad's death was hard on Uriah, and a lot of it was because Zeke and I weren't there. Their father refused to let Zeke return home, telling him to stay in school and pursue his dreams. Uriah was the one who sat at the hospital for hours, and helped his mom out around the house with the cooking and cleaning and shopping. He did all of that while attending high school, and even if Zeke did come home every chance he got, and Shauna visited regularly, Zeke and I always knew he was hurting more than he let on. "Seriously," I add, "I'm just being friendly. I'll back off."

He puts a hand on my shoulder, patting it. "We trust you," he says with a side smile. "Plus, it's Reynolds you'd have to be more worried about anyways."

"Do you think it'd really be that bad?"

He doesn't even answer my question, but bellows out a deep laugh instead.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Two weeks later, we're stuck on a tough case. We've all been putting in long hours, struggling to put the ends together. Even Uriah has been coming up and working with us after his shift, trying to solve the case. We're looking for drug smugglers who've brought some goods in from Mexico and they've killed a few people who've gotten in their way. Almost as frustrating as the case, is it seems like Reynolds is riding me really hard this week. He's questioning every suggestion I make, and won't let me do anything myself. He's stuck Moore with me everywhere I go, and I know what that means. Moore is my babysitter.

I can't remember the last time a Sergeant rode me so hard. Reynolds wasn't even this tough on me when I first came into the unit. I've tried to hide my frustration, but when we get back from a crime scene and I relay all the information to Reynolds, he turns to Moore to verify what I've told him. My mouth drops open, but I quickly turn and close it. 'Fuck this,' I think to myself. Reynolds is tough and I knew that from Zeke, but he's treating me like a new kid. He's not even questioning Uriah, who's two years younger, like this.

It's late, and as I deposit my stuff in my desk drawer, I hear Moore's low voice. "Come on," he says. "We're going for a drink." It's not a question and I'm not in the mood to argue with him anyways. A drink would be nice.

I follow him out of the precinct and down the street without speaking, and Moore doesn't speak either. He has this comfort in his silence. He's not a man of many words, but his words do speak volumes. He's like that with witnesses, with criminals, and with us. I wonder what he's like with his family.

As we walk, I realize where we are headed and finally arrive at Dauntless, entering the doors as Moore makes his way to the bar. "Amar!" I hear Tris say excitedly, calling Moore by his first name, as he goes to the end of the bar and envelopes her small frame into a hug. They share a tight, long embrace. "It's been a while," she says as she pulls away.

"I missed ya, kid," he says in his soft voice, and then moves towards a seat. I follow him wordlessly.

"I hadn't seen you come in lately, so I figured you're busy… at home?" She lets the question trail off, as if she's really asking more.

He nods with a laugh. "I'm trying to be."

She gives him a genuine smile. "Good."

I unintentionally clear my throat, not meaning to demand her attention, but she turns to me. "Hey, Four. Jack and Coke?"

I swallow, nod, and notice how she doesn't ask for Moore's drink order, but serves him up some liquor and ice in a rocks glass, and turns back towards me to deliver mine.

"Rough day?" she asks me. She must be sensing the strain on my face, or maybe the bags under my eyes are really as bad as they've looked in the mirror.

Moore brings his glass to his lips, but murmurs before drinking. "Reynolds is on his ass this week."

I drop my head and run my hand on my forehead. Why would he need to share that with her? Now she's going to think I'm a shit cop that can't tough it in Intelligence.

"Oh, really?" she says, but I can tell there's more to her question. Moore just nods to her, not looking at me. "Lucky guy." She raises her eyebrows to me before walking towards a customer a few seats down.

"Lucky guy? What the hell? Did you bring me here just to tell her how Reynolds fucking hates me?" I'm frustrated with Moore's intentions and the entire situation, and I don't understand why telling Tris will make it better, or give me any sense of relief. I don't even know her.

She makes her way back to us, and Moore has finished his drink, pushing the glass towards her side of the bar, and she holds a hand up as she opens his wallet. "On the house."

But then he throws down a bill anyways, and puts a hand on my shoulder before leaving. "Listen to her," is all he says, and then he turns and walks away, disappearing out the front door.

She's running a towel over some glasses and returning them to the shelf, while studying me. "You know. His first instinct is always push people, to see if he can get them to break."

I don't say anything, just sip my drink and look at her. She's still drying the glasses and replacing them on the shelf. I let her continue talking.

"You need to push back." My eyes flicker up to hers, meeting her gaze.

"Push back? What does that mean, tell him to shut up? Tell him to stop babysitting me?"

"Do it to him before he can do it to you! You have a lead, ask Amar to go with you. Don't let him give you the babysitter. You have info, let Amar tell him so he doesn't get the opportunity to double check you. Don't let him just push you around."

I laugh. "And this will help me?"

"Look, you don't want my advice, don't take it. I only _grew up_ in the Intelligence Unit. I can tell you how to make it in that unit, with Reynolds, better than any officer that's worked for him."

My smile fades and I look up her. She's looking straight at my eyes, holding my gaze once my eyes meet hers. We stay like that for a moment, and I feel like I can almost see something else behind her eyes, something softer, something tender.

"Tris!" I hear behind from behind me, and we break our eye contact. We both turn to see a group of guys, probably from another district, wave to her from the table they're about to occupy.

"Try it," she says, looking at me intently. "Come back next week and give me an update. And Four? He wouldn't push if he thought you were breakable."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

TRIS

Dauntless opens at 11, 6 days a week, so I'm usually here early to clean and get things ready for the day. On this particular Wednesday, Joe is the cook that's starting up the kitchen, prepping food and appliances. I definitely didn't hire Joe for his kitchen skills, since he had none. But Joe is 21, working and going to school part time because he's helping his mom, who's a single parent, pay the bills and raise his little brother, who's 11. Joe came in and appealed to me for a job because he needed more hours that worked with his school schedule, and since we're open late and closed in the morning, it works pretty well for Joe. Oh, and he wants to be a police officer, so that appealed to me too.

Since no one is here yet, I crank up some old school Paul Simon and let myself sway to the music that's playing while I wipe down the tables and chairs. It's music that reminds me of a carefree childhood, dancing around our house with my dad, listening to my mom sing the words so carelessly that sometimes she messed them up. "You can be my bodyguard," I sing softly.

I'm so into the music that I don't hear the door open or the footsteps of people entering the bar. I just hear Uriah's boisterous voice finishing the line from behind me. "I can be your long lost pal!"

I turn suddenly, aware of the way I was moving and swaying my hips, oblivious to the fact that they were watching me. Uriah, as always, makes humor in the moment and comes towards me, moving his shoulders to the music. He grabs my waist and swings me around in a circle with him, my arms gripping his shoulders to keep me from falling. He clumsily dances me through the tables and around the room until I finally push him away, laughing and dizzy from spinning around.

He joins Four and Zeke at the seats they've already taken at the bar, while I make my way to my normal spot behind the bar. I toss some lunch menus at them. "How's the day going?"

"Good," Zeke says, "except for Four over here."

He scoffs. "Stuck cataloging evidence," he says with disgust.

"Hey! We all did our time on the bottom of the totem pole." Zeke laughs at Four's misfortune.

I smile, and continue to finish cleaning while I get them a chance to order. When they're ready, I return back to take their orders.

"Chicken salad on white," Four says, and I smile.

"That's my favorite." I feel shy when he looks back up at me and flashes me his gorgeous smile.

"You have good taste," he replies, and then lets his eyes return down to his menu.

"Do I get to order, or are you two going to stand there and smile at each other?" Zeke interrupts, and I blush.

"Shut up, asshole. What do you want?" I say as I turn to him, slightly embarrassed that Zeke caught me starring at Four. However, my banter with the Pedrads is just as if I am one of them, a sister teasing my brothers, so it comes off as normal and hopefully covers my embarrassment up.

Zeke and Uriah give me their orders, and after I pass them over to Joe, I head back to where they're sitting. "The play offs are starting in a few days…. So….." I let my voice trail, knowing Uriah and Zeke are going to know what I'm asking for. I give them a hopeful look.

"So?" Zeke says, not playing into my game.

I throw my hands up with excitement. "Who wants to work the door on game days?!"

"Whenever you need me, I'll be here," Uriah volunteers first, just like I knew he would. Working the door is boring, annoying, and not really an enjoyable job. Except maybe for Uriah, who's social and can strike up a conversation with anyone. He enjoys knowing the name of every person in the bar, and probably also feels a little more positive about mine and Christina's safety, especially when it gets so crowded.

I offer him an appreciative smile before turning on Zeke and Four. "Well? It _does_ pay!"

Four gives me a surprised look. "I'm just surprised you're offering this to me. You barely know me."

I chuckle. "You're friends with these clowns," I say as I gesture to Uriah and Zeke. "I think I can assume you're alright."

"And if I'm not?" He says it almost challenging, yet in a friendly way.

"I know where to find you. Don't you work for Sgt. Reynolds?" I can't help but give him a flirtatious eye brow raise as Joe dings the bell to tell me their food is up.


	3. Chapter 3

**I do not own Divergent. All characters belong to Veronica Roth.**

 **Thank you to truly wonderful beta, Eunice339, who did a unbelieveable job editing this chapter.**

 **And thanks to everyone who took the time to review the first two chapters!**

TOBIAS

I somehow find myself walking towards Dauntless on a Friday night, completely unplanned. I had received a text earlier in the day from some old high school buddies to watch the Cubs game at a bar in their neighborhood tonight and since I hadn't really seen anyone from high school except Zeke in a long time, I was seriously considering the idea. That was until Uriah walked into the Intelligence office and announced that he was picking up an extra security shift this evening to cover for a guy with sick kids; I guess Uriah's not that immature after all.

Anyway, his whole reason for making the announcement about taking the shift was because he had also promised Tris he'd work door security for her at Dauntless tonight and so he wanted to see if one of us could do it for him instead.

"I'll do it," I said without hesitation, completely forgetting the idea of going out with my old buddies.

Uriah then texted Tris to let her know that I'd be covering for him and Tris texted him back to tell him when she needed me to be there and what to expect. The whole time I was thinking, this would be a lot easier if I could just text Tris myself, but I kept that thought quiet.

So, here I am in front of Dauntless now. As I walk through the entrance, my eyes immediately search for Tris and I can't help but take stock of every guy sitting at the bar chatting her up while she serves them drinks. Her friendly smile is gravitating – it's clear that she enjoys serving the customers and socializing with them. I know that it's part of her job, and she probably knows a lot of these people on a first name basis, but I can't help thinking about the thoughts they've likely got running through their heads. They're probably all wondering if she's single and what they'd have to do to score a date with her. I shake those thoughts out of my own head, because I need to remember I'm here to work.

"Four!" she shouts, waving me over with a smile. I don't have to think twice about moving towards her.

When I get to her, she embraces me in a quick hug, profusely thanking me for coming in. "I'd be fucked tonight if I didn't have someone at the door."

I feel her arms squeezing me and I return the embrace, softly, wishing I could wrap them tighter around her. "Hey, it's no problem. Glad to help."

She gives me a brief overview of what to do, which is basically to sit near the door and card every person that walks in. But more importantly, if she, or any of the other waitresses or bartenders, yell my name, I'm to get my ass over to wherever they are and help them.

Dauntless is already jammed pack, even before the game starts and the staff are all slammed – not just busy – but really slammed. I know Tris and Christina are experts behind the bar, but the job seems to be too much for just the two of them. Once the game starts, the customers get rowdy and the game is relatively close early on, with bad calls and crappy plays being made. I'm feeling a little nervous that things are going to get really wild and I'll actually have to throw someone out, when I hear Tris yelling my name.

I'm trying to move quickly toward her, I really am, but there are just too many people in this damn bar. When I get to her, she's trying to wiggle away from a drunken guy who's got her pinned up against the wall. But her hands are full, holding onto credit cards and beer bottles, which is not giving her much of a fighting chance. Instantly, my blood is boiling and I feel myself becoming protective.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I say as I grab the guy to pull him off of Tris, easily securing one of his arms behind his back in a standard hammer lock hold to immobilize him while I look back at Tris to make sure she's ok. She nods to me, but I can still see her swallowing hard and brushing her blonde hair off her face nervously.

I push him towards the door, all the while he's bitching and moaning about shitty service and shitty servers. Once we get to the door, I force him outside and tell him to walk it off, telling him not to come back. I start to return to my seat when I catch a glimpse of Tris at the bar. She's facing the back wall, avoiding the crowd, and leaning forward onto her hands with her shoulders hunched up. I can tell that she's taking very deep, very long breaths. She lets her head hang down, and the look of defeat makes me want to go to her, to comfort her.

I don't know why I think it's a good idea to get anywhere close to her right now. She's got Christina back there and I'm sure she can talk to her. In fact, I can guarantee this isn't the first time this has happened to her. She probably doesn't even need my comforting. But I leave my seat at the door to move towards her, and as I slink behind the bar, she doesn't move, doesn't even seem to register my presence. I get closer to her and I rest my hands on her shoulders, then slowly move them down her arms.

She turns her head quickly at first, but when she sees it's me she sighs, relieved. "Are you ok?" I whisper to her.

I hear her sigh again and she brings a hand up to cover one of mine. "Yeah…thanks."

Just briefly, I feel her almost intertwine her fingers with mine, but then she turns and with a smile, smacks me on the butt. "Now, go get back to guarding my bar."

Hours later, after last call and a Cubs victory, we finally clear out the bar. I'm thoroughly exhausted, so I can only imagine how the bartenders and servers must feel after being on their feet non-stop and having to deal with the demanding and impatient customers much more than I had to.

Tris slides me a drink as I take a seat at the bar and cracks open a beer for herself. She leans back on the cooler, taking a long sip. "Does that happen a lot?" I ask her forwardly.

She shrugs. "Not really. It's just a different crowd on nights like this."

I don't have anything to say in response, because all of the things running through my head would probably sound a little too emotional for someone I just met. I hated seeing that guy pin her against the wall like that. I hated seeing the look of alarm on her face and the slight panic in her voice when she yelled my name. But I can't tell her that, because I'd sound like a boyfriend, which I'm not. Instead, I just reach into her purse that's sitting on the bar next to me and grab the phone she dropped into it earlier.

"What are you doing?"

"Giving you my number. So next time you need someone to work the door, we don't have to text through Uriah."

I look up at her when I'm finished. If I weren't crazy, I'd almost say she was blushing.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

TRIS

I let myself sleep in the next morning. I can't believe how packed the bar was last night. I had planned on opening a sports bar, and I guess that's what Dauntless is, but it's slowly being taken over by the Chicago PD. Surprisingly, I don't mind it. If anything, it just makes it feel more like home, more like a place I belong. I enjoy serving the men and women my father worked alongside. And if I'm being honest, I enjoy that Uriah, Zeke, and their friends have claimed it as their usual hang out and I can count on spending time with them on a regular basis.

And hey, why not just throw it all out there and say that I enjoy having Four in my bar, too. I remember hearing about him from Uriah when we were in high school – his admirable, older, honorary brother – but I'd never met him. Uriah had said he rarely came home from college and after graduation chose to stay in Indianapolis. He didn't have any family except for the Pedrads and apparently it had been that way for a while. Uriah had told me that like him and Zeke, Four was a police officer. They would go visit him and hit up the bars in Broad Ripple before going back to his apartment on the Canal. What Uriah had failed to mention to me was that he was the most gorgeous man. Ever.

The first day Four had come into Dauntless, I couldn't help but notice him from behind the bar, trying to figure out who he was or if I'd ever met him. That clearly was not possible because I would never have forgotten that face. _How or why had Uriah left out that detail?_

I glance at the clock. It's not too late for me to get a run in so I throw on my shoes and jog through the streets until I'm winded, exhausted, and…thrilled. There's nothing like the feeling of a pure and exhilarating runner's high. It makes me feel a little bold, a little daring. I realize I'm near the precinct, so I stop at the closest coffee shop and grab eight coffees before heading in that direction.

When Tori, the desk Sergeant who I've known since I was twelve, buzzes me up to the Intelligence floor, I find the office strangely quiet. When I finally make it up the stairs, I see Four hunched over his desk, shuffling through papers and photos and who knows what else. I can tell Reynolds is in his office and I can barely see Amar from his desk tucked away in the corner, where it's been since the first time I entered this office as a child.

"Good afternoon...?" I say hesitantly and Four's eyes snap up to meet mine.

"Hey," he says and it's almost a whisper.

"Tris," I hear Amar say quietly, too.

I glance between the two of them and I know instantly that this will not be a friendly visit. Four's eyes are tired, stressed, and Amar has the same look on his face. I've seen that look too many times over the years. Whatever has happened so far today has apparently not been good.

Then I see Reynolds approach the door to his office and he gives me a soft look he rarely gives anyone else. I hold up the drink holders in my hands and shrug. "Coffee?" I say and he nods.

I remember when my mom used to do this and oftentimes I would be with her. She'd usually stop by with lunch for the whole unit, but sometimes in was just a cake or coffee, or anything really. I remember on those nights when my dad would come home, he'd say that her visits always picked up the whole unit, no matter what kind of day they were having. I remember one night hearing him whisper to her that it was the only thing that got him through a tragically horrible day. When my mom was dying, she had told me to always remember to thank and honor the people that serve us; whether that was my father or anyone else in uniform. It's not like I could forget this since it had been ingrained into my brain from the day I was born. I knew she had a subtle message, and that was to continue to support my dad in the way that she had, good or bad. So, I have continued to carry on her traditions and her duties.

While I walk towards Reynolds' office door, I see that this is probably one of those bad days. I set the coffee down on a desk and walk towards him as he throws his arms around me, enveloping me into a fatherly hug. "Hey, kid," he says.

I hug him back, his broad shoulders and stocky frame towering over mine. Reynolds has been like an extension of my father, even before he died. He was always present at holidays and important events. Once, I was in a play at school and my dad couldn't make it because he had to be in court, so Reynolds came with my mom. He recorded it for my dad.

"I just wanted to bring you guys some coffee, but I'll let you guys get back to work."

Reynolds nods before releasing me. As I turn to walk away, I see him head towards Four's desk. "Go check out the uncle," he instructs him. "See what he has to say."

Four glances at me, and I offer a slight wave and a soft smile of encouragement to remind him of my earlier advice as I make my way back down the stairs.

"Right," he complies with Reynolds, even though he has no choice. "I'll take Moore with me."

I chuckle quietly as I hear Reynolds scoff, trying to hide his surprise. "Fuckin' Prior," he mumbles.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

TOBIAS

I laugh to myself when I hear Reynolds' response to my rebuttal, but then wonder if I'm not the first guy Tris has given that advice to. Does she have that conversation with every new guy that comes into the unit? I grab my things and head towards the back hallway that leads to the outside door, Amar following me in silence.

Amar and I get all the way into the car before he speaks. "Watch yourself, Four." It's a vague statement, so I urge him on.

"What are you talking about?"

"Tris."

"What about her?" I don't understand what this conversation is about. I've been discrete in my interactions with Tris.

"You like her."

"I just met her." I can't bring myself to flat out dispute his accusation.

"Just…watch yourself."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I wake up the next morning on a couch that's completely unfamiliar to me with a headache I know all too well. _What the fuck?_ I try my hardest to remember the events from last night – where I went and what I did. But the one thing I can't get out of my head is our case. The face of that little girl when we found her in the car – frozen, alone, scared.

 _Stop it_ , I tell myself. _What happened after that?_ I remember going to Dauntless. _But what on Earth did I do?_ I decide to sit up and take inventory of myself. My pants are off and nowhere in sight, and my phone and wallet are on the floor next to the couch. That's when I hear noises coming from the other room.

I can't hide out on the couch and I can't leave because I really want to know what I did last night. Plus, I have no pants, though I try to forget that detail. I push aside my nerves and walk into what appears to be the kitchen and also the source of the noise.

And then I can't even breathe for a second because standing at the stove is Tris. In an oversized T shirt that hangs to her mid thigh and what I'm pretty sure is just underwear underneath, Tris is cooking eggs on the stove.

"Hey," she says casually when she sees me, like I didn't just wake up for the first time in her apartment. Her hair is up in a ponytail, but strands have fallen out and are hanging loosely around her face.

"Hey?" I say in confusion back to her.

She doesn't look up from what she's doing, but points to a seat at the island behind her. "Sit down."

I do as she says, because I don't know what else to do, and maybe the island will block my view of her bare legs and possible – no, probable – pantyless ass.

"So…uh…" I start awkwardly when she turns around and hands me a cup of coffee.

"No, we didn't sleep together. Yes, you were shit-faced." She laughs at the apparent look of relief on my face. "Geez, Four. Didn't know that was such good news."

"No…stop…that's not…it wouldn't be bad news…it would be…" Geez, I can't believe the mumbled shit that is coming out of my mouth at this moment.

Tris just laughs. "It's ok, Four." She shovels some eggs onto a plate for me and then onto one for herself. "In all seriousness, you just had a rough day and drank too much. You had Christina and me serving you behind each other's backs. I have no idea how much you drank, but you were not getting home by yourself."

"How did you even get me back here?"

I can tell she's laughing to herself thinking about it. "Well, let's just say you are not light and you're lucky I work out. Otherwise, I might have left you on the street somewhere." She looks up at my face, clearly full of embarrassment. "No really, you walked for the most part on your own. You just needed some extra support," she says seriously.

"I'm sorry, Tris," I say hesitantly, feeling guilty for putting that responsibility on her when she had the bar to worry about.

"Hey, really, don't worry about it." She moves her hand to cover mine, running her thumb over my knuckles before pulling away.

We sit and eat in silence, sipping our coffees. Instead of feeling the need to make awkward small talk, we're both just relaxed until something suddenly crosses my mind.

"Tris?"

"Yeah?"

"Where are my pants?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

TRIS

When Four stumbled into the bar last night, clearly already buzzed, I perched him at a seat on the end of the bar so I could keep my eye on him and served him a few drinks, but somehow his glass never looked empty. Then I saw Christina sliding him a glass shortly after I just had. That sly, sexy asshole had us both serving him. I cut him off, but he demanded more alcohol, so I fed him some Cokes with a splash of whiskey for taste, but not enough to make a difference. He was either too drunk to notice or too drunk to argue, I'm not sure which.

I didn't know where Uriah or Zeke were – they weren't answering any of my texts. When closing time came, I didn't have any choice but to take Four back to my apartment. I had no clue where he lived and I wasn't about to trust his drunken ass to get us there. He mumbled the whole walk home, his arm slung around my shoulders. It was mostly for support, but a couple times I let myself pretend it was out of affection.

When we got to my apartment, I practically had to push him into the door before I could settle him onto the kitchen chair and force him to drink some water and take some Advil. He was upset and ranting, and rarely could I understand him. I did hear things like 'just a little girl' and 'fucking sick bastard' and then I realized that he must have been talking about the case they had today. It reminded me of the days when my dad would come home and he would have a sad, tired look on his face, too. And his eyes almost seemed…haunted. He would hug my brother, Caleb, and I tightly, telling us how much he loved us.

I looked at Four just then and saw the same haunted look in his eyes, and I crouched in front of him, balancing myself with my hands on his knees. "Four," I said, but it came out as a whisper. His eyes came up to meet mine. But then they softened, and he was looking at me in a way I'd never seen anyone look at me before.

"Tris," he mumbled. His hand went to my cheek, brushing his fingertips softly over it. "You are so goddamn–" he said before pausing. And then…he threw up.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

TOBIAS

"Dude, what the fuck?" Uriah asks me as he breezes into my apartment like he lives here.

"What?" I wince at his loud voice. "What are you doing here?"

Zeke follows him inside and he looks at me impatiently. "You were seriously fucked up last night, weren't you?"

I take a deep breath, because oddly enough, it's usually me playing the responsible role and lecturing them for being drunk. "I guess so."

Uriah chuckles, throwing his head back. "You don't remember anything do you?"

"I remember having a shit fucking day, sitting here with a bottle of whiskey, and then going to Dauntless. After that, I just remember waking up on Tris' couch – with no fucking pants on, I might add!"

Zeke plops ungracefully on the couch. It's then that I notice he's got a bag in his hand, which he tosses onto the coffee table. "Here, dumb fuck."

I can smell it before I can see it as I rip the bag open. Double cheeseburger and fries from Mike's diner down the street. Our typical hangover meal from college brings a smile to my face. "Thanks, Zeke."

"Well, you didn't hook up with her, right? Cause I would seriously have to kick your ass if you did," Uriah says from across the table. "Especially if you were too drunk to remember."

"You couldn't kick his ass, little brother."

"Shut up, Zeke. Over Tris, I probably could."

"Shut up both of you," I interrupt, my head pounding. Pointing a French fry at them, I add, "She told me nothing happened." But then I suddenly realize, _How did they already know I was at Tris' last night when I didn't tell them?_ "Wait, how did you know where I was last night, anyway?"

"Tris texted us when you were too drunk out of your mind. She didn't know what the fuck to do with you. But I was already sleeping, and Zeke was…busy…with Shauna." Uriah looks at me. "If it weren't you, she probably would have put your ass in a cab and not thought twice. She doesn't take drunk patrons home on the regular."

That makes me feel a little better about the situation, knowing that I'm not the next drunken customer to sleep on her couch. "Yeah, well, she probably won't be doing it again after I apparently took my pants off at some point and then mumbled today about how it was good we didn't hook up." I groan and throw my head back.

"Wait…what? You think _you_ took your own pants off?" Zeke asks, his face full of amusement.

I lift my head and look at them suspiciously. "What do you mean?"

Uriah gives Zeke a dirty look and lowers his voice to a whisper. "She didn't want us to say anything."

"Say anything about what?"

Zeke looks away from me, not wanting to deliver the news of whatever asshole thing I did last night.

"Well…" Uriah lets his voice trail. "You threw up on your lap."

"Oh."

"And…on Tris, too."


	4. Chapter 4

**I truly appreciate everyone who posts reviews, so thank you! I enjoy reading what everyone thinks! Also, big thanks to Eunice339 for her beta skills & fixing all the jumbles of words that only make sense in my head **

**AND-I know a lot of people have requested that I build on A New Type of New Year and I am toying with the idea & will hopefully come up with something I find presentable. I'll let you know!**

 **I do not own Divergent. All characters belong to Veronica Roth.**

TOBIAS

After my hangover lunch and a shower, I go and do something I've never done before in my life. I buy flowers – and not just some shitty flowers from the grocery store – I go to a professional florist and tell them I need something that will really impress a woman who deserves to be adored. Where I found those words in my vocabulary, I have no idea.

Uriah helps me track down Tris by pretending he needs to see her. She tells him she's already at Dauntless preparing for the day, but that she'll likely be in her office, so he can just come on in through the back door when he arrives. Uriah opens the back door with his key for me and then directs me to where Tris' office is located.

As I approach her office, I see her before she sees me. She's sitting in a chair at her large desk, lightly swaying to the soft music coming from her computer – old school Paul Simon, just like the time we walked in on her cleaning. Her body moves so effortlessly, like she's doing it unconsciously. Her blonde hair hangs over her petit shoulders, falling and swaying with every movement she makes.

I lean against the doorframe, soaking it all in for a few moments, before finally speaking. "Hey," I say, trying to put an effortless smile on my face to erase the embarrassment from last night.

She looks up, immediately surprised and then almost embarrassed herself. "Hey," she says back.

"Can I?" I gesture to the chair in front of her desk and she nods.

"Of course."

I move towards the chair and sit down, resting the bouquet on my lap before talking. "I'm sorry," is all I can get out coherently.

"Sorry for what?" she asks, looking confused.

"I shouldn't have come here last night and gotten all fucked up – uh…I mean, drunk – and I shouldn't have put you in a position where you had to take care of me. And I really shouldn't have fucking _thrown up_ all over you." I shake my head out of embarrassment.

"Who told you that?" I can tell she's upset at my admission.

"I just, I had a really rough day yesterday, but that's no excuse for doing something stupid like that and for being a pain in your ass. I'm really, really sorry."

"Did you buy me flowers?" is all she says in return.

"Uh…yeah." I had almost forgotten they were in my lap.

"They're beautiful," she says admiring the flowers as she comes around the front of her desk to take them from me. "Thank you."

I laugh and close my eyes as I slump in the chair. "I throw up on you, and you're thanking me for the flowers."

"Hey," she says softly. When I open my eyes, I see she's standing in front of me, leaning back against her desk. "It's ok, Four. I understand."

I lean forward, sinking my head into my hands because I'm embarrassed beyond belief, because I'm still upset about yesterday, and because I can't believe I threw up on the most beautiful woman in the world and she's not even mad about it. She told Zeke and Uriah not to even tell me because she didn't want me to feel bad. It's clear that this situation is something Tris understands. I wasn't drunk for the hell of it. I was drunk because I watched a child go through a terrifying experience that we barely even made it in time to save her from. And now that child will spend years trying to get over what happened to her. Apparently, Tris gets that my actions were because of something bigger and it makes my heart swell to think about how sympathetic she is being.

I feel her hands on the sides of my head, running over my hair and lightly scratching my scalp. I sigh, finally relaxing for the first time since yesterday morning and without thinking, I reach for her legs and pull her closer to me until I feel her body touch mine, my head resting against her stomach. We stay like that for a few moments until I hear a noise in the hallway and pull away quickly, Tris' hands falling from my head.

"Hey!" Christina yells as she comes barreling into Tris's office. "Oh…"

"What's up, Christina?" Tris tries to sound nonchalant, but I don't think it'll get past Christina that something was going on in here, even if I don't really know exactly what it was myself.

"Uh…the distributor is here. He's got some samples for you, but he needs you to sign for them," she says awkwardly. "I'll…uh, let him know you're coming?" Her words come out as more of a question than a statement, so obviously she knows there was _something_ going on in here.

"Yeah, I'll be right out."

Luckily, Christina leaves right away so I stand up, unsure of what to do or say, but realizing that I'm keeping Tris from her work.

"You know, I never got that update from you on how things are going with Reynolds," she finally says, as if our moment never happened.

"Oh, yeah. How about I tell you tomorrow…over breakfast?" The words rush out of my mouth before I even have a chance to think about it, but I'm not about to take them back. "I can come get you at eight?"

She doesn't answer right away and instead starts to walk towards her office door and my heart begins to sink. But then she stops and turns back to me before leaving and says simply, "Nine." And then she flashes the most fucking beautiful smile as she turns back around and walks out of her office.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

TRIS

I can feel Christina's eyes burning a hole into my back as I stand by the bar and talk to our distributor. He hands me a mixed six-pack and a couple bottles of liquor. They're samples, promotional items, to try to get me to buy them. I finish up our conversation by checking the delivery over and signing for it, then try to duck back into my office before Christina sees me.

"Prior!" I hear her yell before I can slink away, so I turn back around. She's been serving the lunch crowd, but she's waiting for me at the end of the bar. I walk over to her, ready to hear her barrage of questions.

"Look Christina, it was nothing."

"It was definitely _something,_ " she says without hesitation. "I know you took him home last night."

"Yeah, because he was too shit-canned to get his own ass home. Nothing happened. He slept on the couch."

She knows I'm telling the truth, but she still gives me a hesitant look. "He wasn't slammed just now when he was in your office. His head was pressed against your stomach like he was hugging the baby you guys haven't conceived yet."

"Oh my God! Really? You've never been too wasted to get home and slept on someone's couch?!"

"I've never done it with a hot guy I've been eyeing for weeks."

"Did you ever think that he just had a shitty ass day yesterday? And sometimes, people come in here when they have shitty ass days. Four isn't the first guy to come through the bar after a day like that and most of the guys that do, I also know well."

"Tris, I'm not trying to be insensitive."

"Well, you are."

"No, I'm not. I'm just asking what happened, because it's obvious from where I'm standing that–"

"That we enjoy each other's friendship. And that's it." I turn and walk away, not caring what else she has to say, but knowing that I just lied to her, and to myself.

I think I'm finally out of earshot when I let out a deep sigh and then I hear her yell. "Friends don't buy each other fucking expensive flowers like that!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As promised, Four knocks on my door at nine the next morning. The clock actually reads 8:56 AM, but I love a man who's early, like he couldn't wait any longer to see me. Or maybe he just wanted to make a good impression?

Whatever the reason, I'm happy he's here and God does he look handsome dressed casually in jeans and a button up. Next to him, in my tunic and leggings, I feel not so much underdressed as just…underlooked. I don't think that's even a word, but I feel like I don't deserve this gorgeous piece of ass sitting across from me at the diner we end up going to a few blocks from my apartment.

I notice the way his demeanor changes as people come and go from our table. The hostess and the server only see a rigid, emotionless face. Although he's polite and not at all rude, he's not exactly friendly, and he for sure doesn't offer them his gorgeous smile.

Once they walk away, and it's just us at the table, I see that gorgeous smile return, lighting up his blue eyes over and over. He jokes with me in an easy going fashion, slipping in sly comments that go along with my jabs right back at him. He doesn't hesitate to touch my fingers across the table, but I have to wonder if he's making a conscious decision to do that.

"You never told me how things are going at work. Is Reynolds still riding you?"

He shakes his head and swallows before talking, "Not really, but that just might be because of our last case. I did what you told me though. So maybe that helped…"

I stop his jittery fingers by placing mine on top. "You can always tell me, if you need to."

"Nah, it's fine."

"Four. You can."

His fingers slip into mine. "Maybe some time."

I change the conversation to a more casual topic and ask Tobias about his time in Indianapolis. "It was all right," he says flatly, "but I kind of used it as a place holder. I knew I wouldn't stay there forever."

"What made you come back?" I ask. I knew Four had just recently returned to Chicago.

He takes a deep breath. "My father, Marcus, passed away. I had originally left because I wanted to get away from him. Once he died, I felt like I could finally come back and be…free." As he says that last word, a small smile crosses his lips and I see happiness pass through his eyes. "I missed it here. The Pedrads are the closest thing I have to family and it's nice being close to them again."

"Well, I'm glad you came back," I blurt out unexpectedly, not sure where my courage is coming from.

He looks up and meets my eyes briefly. "I am, too."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

TOBIAS

"So, how come I never met Tris when I was home visiting you guys? Or at your dad's funeral?" I ask Zeke and Uriah as we walk down the street to Dauntless.

Uriah shrugs. "I don't know, really. And maybe dad's funeral was just too packed for you two to bump into each other."

I nod. I remember at the funeral home, how there was a receiving line out the door of people offering their condolences. I'd sat at the front with the Pedrads, stiff in my suit, mourning like he was my own father, but also trying to care for Hana and my friends at the same time. I'd lost the best father figure I ever had, but I couldn't be selfish and think only of myself. They needed me. I had gotten them drinks when they were thirsty, answered questions for the funeral home director, and ushered people past Hana when I saw that they'd been talking to her for too long and were wearing her thin. Secretly, I stole glances at her husband when she wasn't looking so she wouldn't see the tears that were welling up in my eyes.

"You mad we didn't introduce you sooner?" Zeke asks with a grin. I can't hide much from Zeke, but Uriah ignores the situation, probably not wanting to be caught between two good friends.

I shake my head, trying to hide the heat that's creeping up to my cheeks. "No. Just curious."

"Tonight is usually one of the nights she takes off. She'll probably be able to hang out in an hour or so," Uriah interjects.

We enter the bar and Uriah shouts his typical boisterous greeting to Christina and Tris, who are both behind the bar. He explained to me earlier, on our walk over, that Christina works part-time at an accounting firm and somewhere between full and part-time at Dauntless as a bartender and accountant. Tris works most nights, except on Mondays when the bar is closed, and she tries to take the early shift twice a week to give herself a break. Sometimes she'll stay and hang out after, but sometimes she'll leave.

Just as Uriah predicted, an hour after we arrived, Tris is off and plops down on the couch next to me, putting her feet up on the coffee table in front of us.

"Hey, you," she greets me and pats me on my knee playfully. I'm glad to see that there isn't any awkwardness with Tris since our breakfast the other day.

I swallow my nervousness and smile back. "Hey. Nice to see you out from behind the bar." That's an honest statement, because I rarely get to see her relaxed and having fun.

"So," she begins, pausing to take a sip of her beer. "Do you like it here? What do you think of the place?"

"I think it's great," I say with enthusiasm. I've never found such a great atmosphere in a bar, ever. And much to Shauna's disappointment, Zeke and I hit up _a_ _lot_ of bars in college.

Tris punches me in the shoulder softly. "Come on, be honest," she begs. "I like hearing what people like and don't like. Gives me room to improve."

I shrug and take a sip of my own beer. "Well, I think the atmosphere is great. It's really chill, but you can also come here and get crazy, if you want." I nod my head over to a table of rowdy girls, squealing in the corner. "You attract all sorts of people."

She nods, pondering what I've just told her. "I guess you're right. I appreciate that." Then she takes a moment to eye me cautiously. "Now, what do you not like?"

I chuckle and casually drape an arm around her shoulders to console her. "I think you could up your beer menu a little. You've got all the regular brews, but you need to add some craft brews in here from some of the microbreweries. If you get a good selection, it would probably increase the word-of-mouth about this place."

She tips her head to the side as if she's considering my suggestion. "I've never thought about that before, but I think you're right. I guess I don't know enough about any of the local microbreweries to have thought much about them when I opened. Plus, they're more expensive, and so I didn't know if I wanted to add the higher price on the menu. I thought it might be a turn off." She seems to be leaning into me a bit, but I'm not sure if I'm just imagining it.

"Maybe you could look into it. It's just something to consider next time you talk to your vendor. Or, we could go to one of the microbreweries and try some of their beers to see what you like," I offer.

She smiles at the thought. "That's a great idea. Maybe you could help me when I talk to my vendor? Or if I have to approach the microbreweries directly, it would be nice to a have a knowledgeable friend with me."

I'm about to lean towards her and tell her how much I would love to go and help her, when I hear a young girl's voice on the other side of Tris.

"Hi, um, excuse me?" the girl says. She has long blonde hair that hangs in curls that were clearly perfected by some styling tool or product, unlike Tris' natural hair. Her shirt is short, showing off a bit of her midriff as she raises her hands to put them on her hips.

Tris and I both turn to look up at her, broken from our conversation that seemed so intimate and personal to me, maybe to Tris too. "Yeah?" Tris says, raising her eyebrows.

"I just, I heard that you're the owner of this bar," the girl attempts to hide her slight nervousness under a bubbly exterior.

"I am," Tris confirms, extending her hand to the girl. "Tris."

"I'm Molly," she tentatively shakes Tris' hand before taking a brief glance at me. "My friends and I were just recently in here the other night, and we heard a group of guys talking about you, how you were single, and they were trying to get up the nerve to hit on you."

"And?" I ask, raising my eyebrows. For some reason, I'm feeling protective and maybe a little bit jealous that a table of guys were checking Tris out and talking about her without her knowledge.

"Well, if you're single…" She lets her voice trail while eyeing me up and down. "Then that means he's not your boyfriend, right?"

I'm taken aback by the boldness of this girl, and not in a positive way. Here I am, having a personal conversation with Tris, my arm is around her, and this girl has the nerve to come over and ask if we're together. Even though we aren't, it's not the best way to get my attention.

Tris pastes a sarcastic smile on her face. "Do you really think that's an appropriate question to interrupt a private conversation over?"

Molly fumbles with her fingers and shifts her weight from one side to the other. "I'm not trying to be rude. He's just really, _really_ -" she annoyingly draws out the word "-hot. He's just too good to pass up."

Tris doesn't respond, but I don't give her a chance. "Well, looks like you'll have to," I say flatly. I'm not interested, and not just because of how she approached me, but also because Tris is sitting right here. If I'm being honest with myself, she's the only girl I've really been this interested in, ever. "I'm enjoying myself here, with Tris."

Her face falls and I let my hand glide over onto Tris's knee for emphasis. Although I know it's not a natural friendly gesture, I want Molly to get a very clear picture that I'm not interested. I secretly also want Tris to get that picture. "Ok, well, maybe you should let every guy that walks in here know that too. It's just a matter of time before they're hitting on her."

Tris stifles a laugh as she thanks Molly for the advice, but then as soon as she's gone, her head is tucked into my shoulder to hide the laughter she can't contain. "Look at you, Mr. Hottie," she says as she finally calms herself and looks up at me. "You're just 'too good to pass up!'" she says as she mimics the girl.

I smile down at her, teasing her back. "Well, apparently all my suggestions are wrong, and your good looks are bringing plenty of guys into this bar."

She shoves me slightly and leans forward onto the couch. "I'm going to grab another beer, and maybe a shot after that conversation. Don't leave me for blondie while I'm gone, okay?"

I chuckle lightly and look back at her as I say quietly to myself, "Never, Tris."


	5. Chapter 5

**I do not own Divergent. All characters belong to Veronica Roth.**

 **Shout out to Eunice339 for her words of wisdom and beta ability!**

 **Thank you for all your reviews, follows, etc. I really appreciate them all!**

TRIS

The next couple of weeks are full of interviews for another bartender. Christina works her ass off, and I just want her to feel like she can take a day, or even a shift, off if she's feeling drained. I know she loves bartending because she enjoys socializing and flirting with the customers, and it earns her good tips too. But I feel like maybe she doesn't get to socialize with her friends as much as she should, and I know that she's begun to pay a bit more attention to Uriah's partner, Will. She hasn't mentioned it yet, but she will. Christina couldn't keep her mouth shut if the world depended upon it.

The search for a new bartender has been frustrating because I can't find anyone I know or trust. I like to mostly hire people by word-of-mouth, but I'm not coming across anyone that way either. However, tonight is my night off, so I'm determined not to let anything bother me and just enjoy the one night a week I get to hang out with my friends.

Christina is bartending while Shauna and I are sitting at the bar waiting for Zeke and Four to get off work. Lynn joins us, telling us that she saw Zeke driving around looking for parking when she was walking over so they'll probably be in soon.

I find myself getting jittery at the idea of seeing Four. This is not the first time this has happened. Besides being the most handsome man I may have ever seen, he's a genuine person, and I enjoy my time with him. I have no idea how he feels, and I've seen the way women look at him. He could have anyone he wanted, so I doubt the person he wants would be me despite Christina constantly insisting on it.

Shauna and Lynn head to the restroom and I'm lost in my thoughts about Four when I hear a familiar but unwelcomed voice behind me.

"Tris Prior. I didn't know if the rumors were actually true, but it looks like they are."

I turn around and am face-to-face with the one person I would happily go the rest of my life without seeing. Eric. "What do you want?" I spit out at him, trying to appear calm and confident instead of raging with anger.

"I'm back in the area for a while," he slides into the barstool next to mine.

"Well, you can stay out of _my_ area and we'll be just fine." I try to sound unfazed and annoyed, but I'm not sure I'm relaying that feeling effectively.

He snakes an arm around my waist. "I thought we could catch up." Then he leans forward to whisper in my ear, " _Like_ _old times_."

I feel bile come up in my throat and I push him away, but he laughs and remains close to me. I'm sickened by the very smell of him and my skin crawls from the feeling of his arm around me.

"Eric, get the fuck off of me," I say more forcefully, but it doesn't register with him. I try not to let panic sent in, as it has so many times before when Eric has been around me. My past relationship with Eric wasn't exactly a good relationship. I knew him from high school, where he was two grades ahead of me. He wasn't good news then, and he certainly didn't improve that reputation when he went to college or even afterwards. Bu **t** after my dad died, I found myself spending a bit more time partying than I should have and Eric weaseled his way into my life to support that, if only for a brief period. There were a few times where I let poor judgment take over and I slept with him, but as soon as everyone realized what was really going on, with Eric and with other things, they pulled me out of my funk and away from him.

I've occasionally ran into Eric a few more times over the years, both during and after college, and every exchange has been like this. He disgusts me, so when I heard from mutual acquaintances that he had moved to Denver, I was more than thrilled that I didn't have to worry about seeing him anymore.

Today, unfortunately, was not my lucky day.

He gives me another creepy smile as he leans in toward my neck. I don't want to make a scene in my own bar, but this is going too far. So, I bring my hands up to push him off as he grips me tighter. "Get off!" I yell louder and suddenly Eric is off of me, but no longer in front of me. The barstool he was sitting on, along with a few others, is lying on the floor and Eric is up against the wall with Four holding him there.

I'm too shocked to move, to say anything for a moment. I just watch as Four whispers what I'm sure are threatening words to Eric's face. Eric doesn't change his slimy, creepy smile, but I can see the worry in his eyes now. When Four releases him, Eric looks over at me and hisses, "Still got the Chicago PD wrapped around your finger, huh? If only they knew…" He lets the sentence trail, but Four grabs him by the collar and pushes him to the front door of the building, forcing him out. He follows Eric out for a minute before returning back to me, picking up the barstools and easing himself onto the one next to me.

"Tris?" It's almost a whisper. "Are you ok?"

I nod, unable to speak, the rest of my body frozen. I feel eyes on me from all of the customers, but I refuse to look up. "I need to get out of here."

Four nods, placing a hand on my lower back to guide me towards my office. I grab a fifth of vodka to accompany me along the way.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

TOBIAS

When I walked into the bar and saw Tris up close and personal with another guy, my heart sank into my stomach. At least it felt that way. It's strange for me to get these feelings over a woman, so I can't always discern exactly what they are. But then I noticed the look on her face and it screamed discomfort and possibly even fear. I know this because I have memorized the lines on her face, the way they move into a smile or a squint, and what I saw was an expression I wasn't familiar with.

As I got closer, I could see her trying to push him away and I heard her voice rising, telling him to get off of her. I didn't think twice about grabbing him off of her and pushing him up against the wall, threatening only some of the things I wanted to do to him for making Tris feel that way. When I released him, I expected him to leave, to finally get the hint that he was no longer wanted here. But he opened his mouth again, spitting menacing words at Tris. So, I didn't hesitate to grab him by the collar and push him out the door, following him outside to make sure he left.

When I returned inside, I noticed a few bar stools lying haphazardly on the floor, and I realized I must have knocked them over. After I righted them, I sat next to Tris as gently as I possibly could and asked her if she was ok, but she didn't respond. And then suddenly we're heading back to her office, but not before she grabs a bottle of vodka from the bar.

So, that brings me to our current situation, which is quite simply, a wasted Tris. She wouldn't talk much about what had happened until she had a few swigs in her, straight from the bottle. She offers it to me and I drink every once in a while, but not as frequently as she does. When she finally does share some information, I see the light leave her eyes for a moment as she drunkenly admits, "I was kind of lost for a while, after my dad died."

"He was just a distraction…and a huge mistake." She says this all with a sad voice full of regret.

I try to think of something else to change the topic to, but Tris beats me to it. "When are you going to take me to one of those breweries? I'm excited about that." I'm sitting at one end of the couch and she's lying down. Her feet are resting on my lap, shoeless, while her head lies on a throw pillow at the other end.

"Excited to try new beers?" I ask her, because she told me she hasn't tried too many local craft brews.

"Excited to try them _with you_." Her eyes don't leave mine for a moment and I see her eyes flit down to my lips, then my lower body, before returning up. We stay like that, staring at each other, for a while until I hear a knock at the door and Uriah enters after Tris hollers, "Yeah?"

I can see his eyes flicker over to my hands resting on Tris' feet, but he holds back whatever he's thinking. Instead, he acknowledges Tris. When he speaks to her, he uses a cautious tone, almost like he's scared to strike a nerve.

"Hey, Tris."

She smiles back. "What's up, Uriah?" He opens his mouth to respond, but she interrupts him. "Yes, Eric was here, but I don't want to talk about it." She playfully kicks my leg instead, but I grab her foot before she can pull it away. "We were just talking about Four taking me out, and that's a much more enjoyable topic." She bites her bottom lip a bit as she looks at me and if Uriah weren't here right now, I'd probably be hard in my pants.

Uriah gives me a menacing look, probably concerned that I'm asking her out when she's vulnerable. I need to explain to him that's not what's happening. "We're going to look at new beers for the bar," I start to explain, but Tris keeps interrupting.

She sits up, crawls over to my side and slings her arm around my shoulders. "Yeah, but we're going _together_."

Uriah shakes his head at the sight of the two of us. "Tris, why don't I get you home?" he offers.

She laughs at him. "There is still plenty of vodka in this bottle."

Uriah rubs his eyes and I can tell he's exhausted. He's been working a variety of different shifts, switching with a couple guys in order to help them out with their family needs, which means his sleep patterns haven't been ideal lately and he wears it on his face.

"I'll make sure she gets home," I promise him. He looks at me with widened eyes and I put my hands up. "I promise, Uri. She'll be fine."

He sighs, but finally relents, agreeing to leave me with Tris and hugging her before retreating from the room. As much as Uriah cares about her, I know that he also trusts me and knows that I'd never do anything to harm her. She continues to sip out of the vodka bottle, passing it to me occasionally.

"What's the best thing about moving back to Chicago?" she asks me, her head on my shoulder as she plays with a stray thread from my jeans.

"Meeting you," I say without hesitation, almost instantly regretting my lack of filter.

She laughs, then looks at me. "You're a liar."

"I am not. I like being around you."

She puts her head back down. "I like being around you, too." I hear her yawn and I look down to see her eyes fluttering closed.

"All right, I think it's time to get you home."

She doesn't object, so I slip her shoes on her feet and help her stand before I lead her to the front of the bar to say goodbye.

"Chris!" she yells as we appear at the end of the long bar. "Thanks for closing," she says just a little too loudly as Christina approaches.

Christina puts her hands on Tris' shoulders and holds her at arms length to get a good look at her. Even though Tris is drunk and her eyes are getting heavy, she still looks beautiful, but I doubt that's what Christina is thinking.

"You're ok with her?" she asks as she glances up at me.

I give her a reassuring nod. "I got her," I confirm.

"I love you, Chris," Tris drunkenly says as she reaches out for a hug, which Christina returns.

When Tris releases Christina, she grabs onto my arm and leans into me a bit. I lead her out the door and down the street to her apartment, which thankfully is close.

"You're a good guy," she says to me. "Why don't you have a girlfriend?"

I smile at her question. "Haven't found the right one, I guess."

"What's the 'right one'?" she asks me, her hand getting dangerously close to mine as it makes its way down my arm.

"Someone different, I guess." _Someone like you,_ I think.

She stumbles a bit on the sidewalk and I catch her by her waist, pulling her back up, while she turns to look at me. "Thanks," she breathes and I'm just mere inches from her face.

"Come on," I say, breaking the moment. "We need to get you home in one piece."

When we get to her apartment after a few more stumbles, but luckily no falls, I follow her up. I'm not sure if I have the intention of staying on the couch or if she'll want me to go home, but I can't imagine leaving her until I know she's made it to bed, at least.

She stumbles around her room looking for clothes before going to change in the bathroom, where I hear her knock over something and erupt into a fit of giggles. I almost barge in, thinking she's fallen, but the giggles stop me.

"You ok, Tris?"

"Yes." More giggles come from the bathroom and I eventually open the door to find her seated on the floor, an array of bottles and toiletries scattered around her with toothpaste all over the counter.

I lift Tris up from under her arms and walk her back to her room. "I think it's just time for you to head to bed," I say as I seat her on her bed.

She grabs my hand before I can remove them from her, looking up at me. "Stay here."

I rub my hand over my face, my mind warring with what I want my answer to be with what it should be.

"Not like that," she corrects herself. "Just don't make me sleep alone."

I nod, and she rolls onto her side, leaving me half of the bed. I drop my pants and pull off my jacket, discarding them onto the floor and crawl into bed next to her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

TRIS

When I awake the next morning, I feel a warm body lying next to me. Well, not so much next to me as more… partially underneath me. I'm instantly relieved when I see that it's Four, but then I realize I have no idea how he ended up here. My head is resting on his chest and his arm is draped lazily around me, but his hand is resting on the small of my back, just above my butt. I'm curled up close to him and my leg is draped slightly over his. I also notice he has no pants on. _Shit._

Despite my current state of worry, I don't want to move; I want to enjoy this moment of closeness with him a little bit longer. I also have too large of a headache to contemplate getting up right now and would prefer to retreat back into the comfort of sleep. So, I close my eyes again and hope to drift off back into sleep.

I wake up a few hours later and realize that I was successful in drifting back to sleep. I am in the same position as last time, but this time my arm is also wrapped comfortably around Four's waist. I feel him begin to stir beneath me and I quickly lie my head back down, not wanting to admit that I'd been awake and didn't peel myself off of him already. The contented feeling from having him with me is overwhelming, but I'm not ready to share that with him yet.

"Well," he says groggily. "If this isn't a nice way to wake up."

I blush, thankful he can't see me. "Sorry," I begin to pull away from him, but he pulls me back to him.

"Just give me another minute to enjoy this," he says and I look up at him surprised. His eyes are closed, but he has a relaxed smile on his face. A smile crosses my face too as I realize how we both had similar feelings about waking up together like that—not wanting it to end.

"How's your head?" he says after a few moments, breaking the silence.

"Pounding," I admit.

"Breakfast?" he asks me.

"Starving."

"Stay here." I feel him bring his head down to mine, almost expecting to feel a kiss on my hair, but he must realize what he's about to do and stops himself. I pull away as he eases himself up off the bed, hearing a noise that resembles the opening of the fridge shortly after.

I stretch out in my bed, thinking about what could have happened last night. Then I remember—Eric. My headache grows at the thought and I push the memory away. _How did Four end up in my bed?_

I get up and head into the kitchen, pouring a cup of coffee before Four notices I'm there. He's still in his boxers, not having put his pants back on yet, and the black T shirt he wore last night. I use this moment to lean against the counter and take him in with my eyes before he turns around and catches me.

When he does eventually turn around and see me, his face falls. "I told you to stay in bed," he says with a hint of disappointment.

"I'm sorry," I apologize. "I just really needed some coffee and some water. And, I really need to know—"

He cuts me off. "No, we didn't sleep together. Yes, you were shit-faced." He repeats the same words I had used when he drunkenly stayed on my couch not so long ago. He glances up at me with humor in his eyes.

I smile at him. "Thanks."

He's almost finished with preparing breakfast, so I pull plates out of the cabinet for him and refill his coffee cup before taking it to the table. When he turns around with plates of eggs, bacon and toast, my mouth waters. I was unaware of how incredibly hungry I was. Vodka apparently doesn't keep you satisfied.

He smiles at me from across the table. "I hope you like it."

I take a few bites, savoring the flavors, and then glance over at him.

"Four? Where are your pants?" I give him a sly smile.

He erupts into a deep laughter before we continue on with our breakfast.


	6. Chapter 6

**I do not own Divergent. All characters belong to Veronica Roth.**

 **As always, thanks for Eunice339 for getting this chapter back to me so quickly!**

TRIS

It's a beautiful, sunny Saturday when Four picks me up to take me to a brewery in the north suburbs. There's a light breeze that offers relief from the sun's rays and it makes the day appear even more beautiful when I feel it whip through my hair as we walk to his car.

He promises that I will love this place, and also love its unique craft beers. With Four's help, I talked to my distributor the day before about different microbreweries in the area and he said that this was the one place that brewed and served their own beers exclusively at their location. Everything they sold was bottled, no kegs, and some brews were unavailable at any location other than theirs. It didn't take long for both of us to realize that this could be huge for Dauntless, but the distributor just laughed at our hopes.

"You can try to work with them, but a lot of people have and failed. Good luck."

Four didn't react much to the warning, just shrugged and said, "We should try it anyways." He said he'd make a call, and I got suspicious that he had something up his sleeve that he was not telling me about. And now he's driving to the brewery without needing directions or a GPS, so my suspicion grows as we get closer to our destination.

We talk leisurely during the drive. He shares some stories about college with me, including his life in Indianapolis. It's clear he was satisfied living there, but not as happy as he truly could've been. "Marcus dying was a blessing. I got to return home."

"Isn't it strange?" I ask, referring to our fathers. "You're dad died and it opened doors for you. My dad died and I practically threw myself down a staircase."

"They were certainly different people," he quips with a subtle laugh, but I can hear the seriousness behind his statement.

I reach over and lightly scratch the back of his scalp. I find myself doing this to him when we're together, absently finding ways to touch him or move closer to him, to feel the warmth from his body gravitating towards me and giving me comfort.

He groans in response. "You're gonna make me pass out while driving if you keep that up, Prior."

I try to hide the redness approaching my cheeks and remove my hand, pulling it back towards me, but not before he grabs it and kisses it lightly.

"I like it when you do that." His words are quiet; I'm barely able to hear them over the wind and engine, and my heart thudding in my chest like it's going to jump out and run away.

I'm too nervous to respond, so I fidget with my hands in my lap. When I finally steal a glance up to Four, he shifts slightly in his seat to look down at me with his sexy smile, and I have to look away or I think I just might orgasm from the sight of him.

I've been noticing things like that happening quite frequently, lately. My hands are always finding their way to him without me even making the mental decision to touch him. I'll hear him sigh and realize I'm running them up and down his back, or I'll notice odd glances from our friends and look down to see my hand resting on his leg. As spontaneous as my actions are, they feel natural, comfortable, and enjoyable to me, and Four has never acted otherwise. In fact, Christina recently pointed out how hands on he is with me, too, which I'd never noticed before.

"You guys can't keep your hands off of each other," she said casually one night when we were behind the bar together. Four had come in earlier to have dinner with Zeke and then they'd had a few beers before heading home. It was a weekday, so they had to call it a night early. She had watched him come around the bar to wrap me into a hug, pulling me to his chest while my arms slid around his waist.

"Maybe I'll come by with dinner for us tomorrow?" he'd said, looking down at me.

I had looked up at him, resting my chin on his chest. "That sounds great. I should be able to squeeze in a break." I felt his hand run through my hair and I thought I saw his eyes drift down to my lips.

"Have a good night," he'd whispered as he gave me a light squeeze, and then he was out the door with Zeke.

Afterward, I tried to busy myself with tasks around the bar, refilling beers and drying some glasses, but Christina didn't hesitate to approach me, commenting about the amount of physical contact we'd had. "You guys need to stop lying to yourselves before you both fuck this all up."

"Why can't we just do whatever we want?" I shot back.

Christina was too clever, too smart, to argue with. She knows me better than anyone, so I didn't stand much of a fighting chance. She crossed her arms and leaned her hip against the cooler. "Oh, yeah? And you guys have talked about what you want?"

I sighed and shot my head down to the counter. "Not exactly."

"'Not exactly', or no?"

"No." I put my head down as I said this to her to avoid the look of frustration I knew she was going to give me.

"You know, Tris, you've waited your whole damn life for someone to love you the way that man does, and you won't even open up to let him know you love him, too."

She then stalked off to serve some customers, and I remained at the bar, looking down at whatever task I was working on, mindlessly, because all I could think about was how right she was, but how I wasn't going to admit that.

I'm snapped out of my memory as Four slows the car and points to a building. "It's back there." He eases his car into the parking lot and when we exit, I take in the huge building in front of us. It has a modern feel, made of steel and full of sharp edges, but somehow doesn't come off as cold or uninviting. We walk up towards the main doors, but an older man emerges before we reach them and he stands there smiling while we make our way towards him.

"Eaton," he says when we are within speaking distance. "It's damn good to see you."

Four smiles genuinely and they share a manly hug before he turns to introduce me.

"Jack, this is Tris Prior. She's the friend I was telling you about."

I eye Four suspiciously. He didn't let on that I was meeting a friend of his; I thought we were just visiting a brewery.

"Nice to meet you," Jack shares with me.

I smile in return. "You, too. Thanks for meeting with us today."

"And pass up a meeting with this guy? No way!"

I feel anger beginning to grow in my stomach, because apparently this meeting isn't really about me getting an exclusive beer for the bar. It's about Four using his connections to do it for me, and that's something I don't want, or need.

I can't remember how many people laughed in my face when I was getting into the bar business. A small, young girl like me didn't seem to have what it took to hack it, and after a while I thought maybe I didn't, too. Vendors tried to upcharge me, contractors tried to screw me over, and it wasn't until I had Amar sit in on a consult that anyone treated me properly. He didn't even say anything; he just sat in the corner. His presence was enough, but it also proved to me what I had suspected all along: they didn't think I was tough enough.

Christina and I began taking kickboxing then, and although I wasn't sure it would work, it did increase my self-confidence and I began to feel a lot tougher than I really was, at least physically. I wasn't about to use Four to get a connection, because then it would take me right back down to where I was, a woman relying on a man to get ahead in her world.

"Look," I say flatly, "I'm not here so you can sell me beer because you're buddies with Four."

I turn to walk towards the car hastily. _Fuck this_ , I think to myself, but Four grabs my arm to stop me.

"Tris."

"What? You thought I couldn't handle a real business meeting, so you set me up with your buddy? God, Four, I thought you knew me a _little_ bit better than that!"

"Tris! Jack is just the bartender!"

I stop in my tracks and pull my wrist back towards my body. I glance over at Jack who is nodding sheepishly. When I glance back at Four, he has a look, almost like he's begging me not be upset and to finally listen, but it's me who feels like a jackass.

"Oh."

"Come on," he begs, pulling me to him. He runs his hands up and down my shoulders. "Tris, I promise. I only know this place because of Jack. He's just the bartender, but he told me the owner would be here today."

I eye him cautiously, but Jack interrupts us. "He's being honest. I don't know shit about making beer, just pouring it."

"Ok." I can't find any other words to fully respond, and Four must think I still am upset.

"You're too badass to need my help," he whispers as he brings his hand to my cheek, pulling me toward him with his other hand.

I don't want him to detect my shiver from the feeling in the pit of my stomach. It's a feeling I get whenever I'm this close to him, inches from his soft lips. I've felt them on my cheek, my hair, my forehead…every place but the one I am dying to feel them on – my lips.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

TOBIAS

I explain to Tris a few of the differences between the brews on the menu and tell her what I do know about the brewery, and she listens intently, nodding while she absorbs the information. Her eyes are wide with pleasure as she sips an IPA, the second beer I've ordered for her off of the unique and intricate menu.

She giggles at the funny names listed on the left-hand side of the piece of cardstock, and leans into me for a second before pulling back. "Thanks for bringing me here."

I offer her a soft smile and rub her knee gently. "Anytime. And remember, this is just the first of many. We've got a lot of other places to visit." I wink at her, because I'm excited about our upcoming business adventures or, as I like to think of them, unofficial dates.

After she takes the last sip of her IPA, Jack goes back to see if the owners, who are two brothers, are ready to meet with her. When he returns, he nods to her and tells her that Chris is the only one here today, but Neil might be arriving soon. However, she's welcome to meet with Chris, which she agrees with, so he escorts her back. I smack her butt as she walks towards the back of the bar to follow Jack.

When Jack returns to his usual spot at the bar, he pours me another beer; different from the two I've already tried. "You'll love this one," he says as he slides it over. "And you forgot to mention that you were dating the girl."

I chuckle, wishing his words were true. "Because we aren't."

He shakes his head. "Bullshit. I've known you for a long time, Four. And I've never seen you happy like you are now."

Jack is right, and I know this. He spent years as my father's driver, working a decent job for beyond decent pay, only because he was available 24-hours a day and kept me out of Marcus' hair. As a child, he took me anywhere I needed or requested. If I wanted to go to the park, Jack was not only my driver but also my chaperone. After my mom died, he would sometimes find things to do with me even if I didn't ask. When I left for college, Jack quit his job. He told me he only stayed all those years for me, and I knew he was being honest.

Marcus was pissed when Jack quit, but Jack couldn't have cared less. He moved out to the suburbs and began bartending, a job he truly enjoyed. The few times I came home with Zeke, I made my way up here to visit Jack, although we had kept in contact regularly. I was surprised to see him living such a laid back life and not wearing a suit at first, but now I see how much more comfortable and happy he looks.

"We're just friends," I finally respond to him.

"She is way more than just your friend, but go ahead and keep lying to yourself."

My finger slides around the rim of the top of the glass and I feel myself smiling, thinking about Tris.

"You look like a fucking puppy dog right now."

I laugh at Jack's comment because I'm pretty sure no one has ever referred to me in that way before. In fact, no girl I've dated has probably ever seen me look at her even close to the way I look when I just think of Tris. But there's no point in admitting it to Jack.

"I know." It's all I can muster out without spilling the entire contents of my heart right on the table like a fucking baby.

I'm also extremely thankful, because that's the moment Tris comes walking out from the back door of the bar, followed by a man who appears to be in his thirties, wearing jeans and a button up shirt. He follows her over to where I'm sitting, and Tris stops in front of me without sitting down.

She places a hand on my back and turns towards Chris, standing dangerously close to me. "Chris, this is my…friend, Four." I notice the slight hesitation she had when describing my relation to her.

Chris doesn't appear to notice, but reaches forward to shake my hand. "Nice to meet you."

Tris smiles at me. "It appears Chris and I have worked out a business deal."

I smile at her proudly. "Oh, yeah?" I say with a question. Chris orders a beer and offers us each another, but Tris and I politely decline because we need to drive home.

"Well, I'm sure I'll be seeing a lot more of you," he smiles at Tris, a little too friendly for my comfort, so I can't help but sling an arm around her shoulders.

I say goodbye to Jack and we thank Chris for his time, but as I attempt to pay our tab, Chris shrugs it off. "Don't worry about it. Consider it your first free samples."

As we make our way out to the car, I throw an arm around Tris' shoulders and pull her towards me, pressing my lips against her hair. "I knew you could do it," I almost whisper. "I'm so proud of you."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXxxx

Friendship with Tris, or whatever we have, comes to us like it's the most natural thing in the world. Or, at least it comes that way to me. We're not together all the time, but I talk to her almost every day. I work the door at Dauntless on game nights, and when I'm not working, I'm usually there hanging out on the weekends with Zeke, Uriah, and the rest of their friends. Or, _our friends_ , I guess I can say now. Sometimes on the weekends, we grab breakfast or coffee, and she stops by the precinct about once a week with food, cookies, or coffee, anything that brings a smile to our faces. Occasionally we run together, when we have time, through the streets of our neighborhoods.

We have our small, subtle moments too. We rest our hands next to each other sometimes. When we're walking into someplace, I find myself ushering her with my hand on the small of her back. And we hug, often. I'll find her absently running her nails along the back of my scalp when we're seated at the bar together or resting her arm on the back of my chair, and sometimes my hand wanders over to her thigh as if it's exactly where it belongs.

I don't know what is going through her mind, but I know what's going through mine. I want these moments to be more than small and subtle. I don't want to come over to her apartment for breakfast; I want to wake up in her apartment and make her breakfast. I don't want her coming to the precinct to see everyone; I want her to come to see me, and everyone else just be the bonus. I've memorized her smile, the way she throws her head back and laughs when something is really funny, and the way she moves behind the bar so effortlessly.

I'm at Dauntless on a Friday night, seated at the bar with Zeke and Shauna when the crowd starts growing, quickly. Tris is by herself, swamped behind the bar, while Christina is cocktailing because, as Tris put it earlier, "Two fucking new girls called off the same night." I know she's also in a foul mood because she spent the morning at a memorial ceremony for fallen officers with Reynolds. She met him at the precinct and he drove the two of them. When they came back they both had scowls on their faces, but neither of them wanted to speak about it. She said it went 'fine,' but I know that it's contributing to her shitty mood for the day.

As she rushes across the bar, I hear her yell certain things at shitty customers. "I'll get to you as soon as I can," or "Yeah, give me a break." When she finally comes back to us to toss Zeke a beer, she looks at me while pouring some mixed drinks.

"Four, watch me pour this shit." I glance up at her and watch, unsure of her reasoning. "That's how much liquor goes into a basic mixed drink. Then top it off from the nozzle." She serves the drinks, swipes the card from the customer, and comes back over to me. "Now, get back here and help me."

"What?"

"I'm fucking slammed. I can't do this shit alone."

"Hey, Tris, he doesn't have a liquor license," Zeke interjects.

Tris looks at him like he just slapped her. "Who's going to come bust me? You? The CPD?" She waves her hand around the bar.

I don't know what else to say, but I get up and go behind the bar with Tris. She points things out while serving some customers. "Beers down here. Ice in here. Holler for whatever you need. I'll show you the register in a minute."

I'm tentative, but I look at my first customer. A woman in her twenties shouts her order at me, so I dig through the coolers until I find the beer she wants, then call for Tris to help me charge her card. _Phew._

This is totally out of my element and I consider telling Tris I can't handle it, that I'll probably just be in her way, but when I glance over at her, I see her take a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself. She pours herself a shot of whiskey then shakes her head after swallowing it, like she's trying to rid herself of whatever was just on her mind.

So, I suck it up and I work my ass off. I make drinks I can't imagine someone would willingly consume; I serve the nicest and the shittiest of beers. I must say, Tris and I become a pretty good team. By the end of the night, we move around each other pretty easily, and I don't miss the opportunity to put a hand on her hip or her lower back when I need to slide by her.

Things finally slow down by last call, and there's only a few drunk girls sitting in the middle of the bar. She serves them one last round of dry martinis before the girls start to chat her up.

"Is this place always FULL of cops?" one girl drunkenly slurs.

Tris laughs to herself. "Pretty much."

"Ohhhh… We should start coming here more often," a second girl says to her friends.

"Yeah, we should!" another girl agrees.

"Why do they hang out here so much?" the first girl asks her.

"Must be the atmosphere." I laugh to myself hearing Tris' response.

"You're like, sooooo lucky. You probably have your choice of any of them you want." The girl is leaning her head on her hand, looking at Tris almost dreamily.

"Yeah…not really." Tris' reply seems unemotional, like she really doesn't care.

"So, you don't scoop these hotties up?!" the girl looks at her as if she just said she leaves diamonds laying around the bar at closing.

"My rule number one," Tris replies. "Don't date cops."

When I hear it, I freeze. It's like I just got slapped in the face, hard. It's not like I've been lying to myself that we're just friends, and I haven't made a move on Tris, but I would be lying if I said I didn't hope this was leading to something at a nice, casual, unpressured pace. _So, what the fuck? She can be friends with me, but she just can't date me?_

I've got to get out of here.

"Well, Tris, looks like you've got this under control now," I say. "I'll see ya." I head towards the door and ignore her calling my name after me.


	7. Chapter 7

**Here is chapter 7! I appreciate everyone who has reviewed the first 6, or the story as a whole. This chapter is a little shorter, just because I felt it was the right place to cut it off. I actually already have the whole story completed already. At this point it is just proofreading, editing, etc. And Eunice339 does her magical beta-work to help me out (as she did with this chapter!) so I shouldn't go an extended amount of time between posting.**

 **I've noticed a lot of reviews are guests to the website, and I would love to chat with some of you about your points of view and/or what you leave as a review. However, I can't reply if you don't have an account so I would like to encourage you to create one** **J**

TOBIAS

I really just want to spend my Saturday at home, throwing myself a pity party, which is so unlike me, but Zeke calls me up and tells me I better get my ass over to his house for a cookout because his mom, Hana, is visiting. As much as I don't want to go, it's always nice to see Hana.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" Zeke says as soon as I walk in the door. Apparently, my mood is evident.

"Nothing."

Shauna looks at me and laughs, "I've known you for twelve years and I've never seen that look on your face."

They exchange a glance at each other and it dawns on them. "It's a girl," they say simultaneously just as Uriah walks into the room.

"Yeah, what the hell? Tris called me. Said you left Dauntless all shitty last night," he says as he inserts himself into our conversation.

"Does she tell you everything that happens in her life, or just the stuff with me?" I spit the question out at him and I know it comes out shitty, but he just shrugs in response.

"What happened? You guys were so cute together behind the bar!" Shauna says excitedly.

I shoot her daggers with my eyes. "Apparently that's all I'm good for."

"What's that mean?" Zeke asks.

"Nothing."

"Everyone knows you're in love with her." Shauna says it with a shrug, like it's perfectly common knowledge and a perfectly common topic.

"I'm not in love with her," I argue.

"Whatever." Zeke laughs. "I've never seen you even think twice about a girl, but you and Tris are all, _'Oh, let's get breakfast!'_ and, _'Here, Four, I brought you coffee!'_ You two kind of make me sick."

"Well, it doesn't fucking matter, because she said last night that her rule number one is, 'Don't date cops' _._ " I groan as I slump down on the couch and throw my head back.

Uriah puts his head in his hands. "I can't believe she said that in front of you."

"What do you mean 'in front of me'? So, you knew she'd said that before and you didn't think to tell me that I didn't have a shot?" I feel the anger building up at Uriah for not giving me a warning about this.

"I thought you weren't in love with her?" Zeke says with a smile, knowing I just admitted I had feelings for her.

"Zeke, shut up," I spit, before turning back to Uriah. "Uri, what the hell are you talking about?"

He sighs and leans forward onto his elbows. "She's always said it, but I didn't think she was serious. I thought it was just something she was hoping wouldn't happen."

No one says anything for a minute.

Shauna is finally the one who speaks up. "I guess you can't blame her," and then quickly adds, "For the rule, you know, because of her dad. That's probably pretty hard."

"Yeah." I feel kind of insensitive being pissed off at her, but at the same time I feel like I just made a huge ass of myself, expecting and hoping for something that clearly was never a possibility.

"Boys?" I hear Hana say from the doorway, a grocery bag in her hands. "What is everyone moping about?!"

Right now Hana is probably the best and worst person to see in this situation. She's the best person to give advice, because she has this all-knowing type of aura that she gives off. But I also know she's going to make me talk about whatever is bothering me and I really hate talking.

"Four has girl problems," Shauna says immediately, causing me to mumble some choice words under my breath.

Hana gasps. "Well, I have been waiting for the day that this handsome man finds a girl who catches his eye." She comes up to me and I stand to embrace her, the best parental figure I've had in my life.

"Hi, Hana," I say, smiling at the way she hugs me back before she joins me on the couch.

"Who's this girl, now? And not just the problems, I want to hear all about her!"

"Mom," Uriah says slowly. "It's, uh, Tris."

Hana almost jumps off the couch in excitement. "I've been saying for years that she and Four would be perfect for each other! I told Uriah he had to introduce you guys when you said you were moving back!"

I laugh at Hana's excitement, feeling bad that I'll have to tell her how Tris sees me as undateable material. But before I can even start to tell her about the situation with Tris, Zeke launches into the story of what Tris said, adding in details about how I'm crazy about her and that she is apparently also crazy about me, but neither of us will admit it or act upon it.

Hana doesn't waste any time looking at me sternly. "I think, Tobias," she starts, using my real name so I know she means business with this, "that one of you needs to take the first step, and since I can't yell at her, too, I'm going to yell at you."

"It's not that simple, Hana," I object, but she silences me.

"Do you think that there is ever a good reason you should hesitate to be honest with the people you love? No. Because all of us in this room know that one day, those people could be gone in an instant. And you don't ever want to take that chance, that risk."

* * *

TRIS

I have no idea why Four stormed out of the bar and I have no idea why he hasn't texted me or answered me since then. I try to tell myself he's busy with work, or something else, but intuitively I know that there is something wrong. I don't realize it's me that is the 'something wrong' until Uriah shows up on my doorstep Thursday morning.

"Tris…" he says and I can tell this isn't a typical, jovial visit from Uriah. "You really dug yourself deep on this one."

"Four?"

He nods, walking into my apartment and settling himself onto my couch. "Really, Tris? 'Rule number one' is legit?"

"I don't know. I thought so."

"Until?"

"Until…Four." He's the only man that could sway my opinion on getting involved with someone in law enforcement. But he is more than that; he is also the only man that could really sway me into the dating scene at all.

"What the hell is the purpose of 'rule number one'?" he asks me.

I can't talk, but Uriah sees the tears well up in my eyes while I fight to keep them from spilling over. Everything flashes back: Reynolds and Amar sitting in front of my house when I got home from class; the looks on their faces when they approached me; going to see his body; sitting through the trial; the funeral; the newspapers, the interviews, the questions; the spiral out of control.

"I can't do it again," I whisper. "I can't lose someone else like that."

"You can't stay guarded forever, Tris."

"I just can't risk it. I can't do that to myself!"

"What about me?" he asks, sitting up and raising his voice. "What about Zeke? You wouldn't feel pain if we died?"

"That's not what I'm saying!"

"So, if Four died today, you're telling me it would hurt less just because he's not your boyfriend? That's a load of crap, Tris, and you know it." He's talking to me in a way that I've never heard from him, so I know I really deserve it. "You can't keep your heart locked up forever."

He stands up and leaves without another word. And I can't even drag myself up off the couch, because deep down, I know that he's right.

* * *

I know that I should text Four. Or call him, or go see him, or something, but I can't. By admitting to myself how I feel about him, I'm now fighting two battles. First, I've got to get over the fear I've had of losing another person I love, and second, I've got to find a way to make it up to Four. I groan loudly out of frustration as Christina comes into my office.

"What the hell has your panties in a twist?" she asks flatly. "Or are you just back to being grumpy because Four hasn't been around?"

"You've noticed?"

"Noticed what? That you're grumpy or that he hasn't been around?" she says as she plops down onto the chair across from my desk, draping her legs over the side.

"That he hasn't been around?"

"Yeah. And you aren't smiling at your phone every six seconds, so I figured something was up."

"It's been five days, Christina. I haven't even talked to him. I've probably lost any shot I had by now."

"Then get your ass out of this office, walk down to the precinct, and go tell him how you feel." She says it like it's the easiest thing in the world.

I don't know what to do, what to say, how to apologize. I've never been good at admitting my feelings to anyone but my dad, which is part of the reason I stay so guarded these days. I debate about this with Christina, who repeatedly tells me that my past actions and ideas don't really matter, as long as I'm saying how I feel, how I care, now.

After two hours of planning and motivating myself, I walk towards the precinct with Four's favorite lunch in my hand, hoping he hasn't eaten and praying he's not busy.

Tori buzzes me up with a smile, and when I get up to the top, Four's desk is the first place my eyes fall onto. But it's empty. Fuck.

"Hey, Tris." Zeke approaches me hesitantly. "Are you here for Four?"

"Yeah," I say, my eyes flitting back over to Four's desk nervously. "Is he busy?"

"You haven't talked to him lately, have you? Since…" he lets his voice trail.

I look around, growing anxious. "No." _Is he with someone else? Did something happen?_ Zeke is talking much softer than usual.

He pulls me over to his desk. "He's undercover."

I sigh, almost out of relief; until I think about the potential danger he's in. "How long?"

Zeke shrugs and looks at me, although I know he can't really answer that. "It shouldn't be that long. I'll let him know you came by."

Part of me feels frozen, but I find the strength to nod. "Uh...ok." I turn and start to head towards the stairs, but I stop and turn. "Zeke? Can you tell him it's important?"

* * *

TOBIAS

There's a certain rush, a certain thrill, about being undercover that I love. But with that, there's also a hint of danger, or sometimes more than a hint, and a little bit of fear. Part of the reason I love being undercover is because it allows me to sort of escape, to pretend to live another life. That's what I had spent the majority of my childhood doing anyways. So, I like to think the extra practice made me pretty good.

Reynolds is nervous about this operation, and I can see his nervousness only when he talks to me one-on-one. He knows I can do my job, we established that after I worked Tris' tactics on him, but sending someone into this type of situation can't be easy. We had a last minute opportunity to insert someone, and Reynolds asked me quickly and without hesitation, so I jumped at the opportunity. I'm supposed to be a high-end drug dealer, looking to get the expensive shit for the high profile people of Chicago. I look the part in my suit and tie, freshly shaven face, and expensive shoes. That's the easiest part of it all.

Things have been going well and I feel like I'm making some progress getting to the top guy, but I start to get a little nervous when my phone gets smashed before getting into an SUV with some new bodyguards I haven't seen before. I try to play it cool, maintain my laid back attitude, keep my story established. But when they take me to a warehouse, I know that things aren't going to go so well from here on out and I've probably been made. They tie me up and toss me into an empty room. They only come back to question me, then kick my ass when I don't answer. _Where the fuck is Reynolds?_

I try not to panic, but in my attempt to calm myself, I find my thoughts drifting. I try to imagine Tris' fingertips running through my hair, massaging my scalp, and the heat of her knee under my hand. I push her recent words about her 'rule' out of my head and focus on the way she cradled my head against her stomach after I had thrown up on her the night before. And I pray that I'll be able to feel her hold me like that again.

That's the last thing I remember thinking about before I get a swift kick to my face and everything goes black.


	8. Chapter 8

**Here is chapter 8! Big thanks to Eunice339 for her beta work! Thanks for all of your reviews :) (Also, I posted this chapter and then realized I made some mistakes, so I deleted it to edit it and repost. If you get two emails, that's why, but there is only one new chapter. Sorry!)  
**

* * *

TRIS

Two whole days have gone by since I visited the precinct in search of Four, and I've only gotten short answers from Zeke and Uriah about where he is, which is, 'still undercover'. I know they can't give me any more information than that, and I'm probably already stressing them out by asking, but I don't get why Four would be gone for so long. In all my dad's years as the head of Intelligence, I never once remembered an undercover operation lasting more than a day or two. Long-term operations are generally saved for a different team of officers and are often thoroughly planned out in advance, planting the officer in a specific spot.

I can't think negatively; I can't think the worst. I have to continue to tell myself that Four is just working, just busy. To calm my thoughts, I actually tell myself that maybe he's back; that he just won't call me because he hates me. At least he'd be safe then.

Christina can see my worry when we open up Dauntless the next day. I'm agitated and trying not to let it show, but failing miserably.

"Tris, you're going to put a hole in that bar if you keep scrubbing it."

I throw my head back and groan out of frustration. "I know, I'm just…"

"I know," she admits. "Uriah told me."

Christina and Uriah met through me when we were all still in high school. The three of us stayed close to home for college, which solidified our friendship more. When they first met, Christina could hardly handle Uriah's loud, boisterous personality, but I think that's only because it matched hers. Eventually, Christina's friendship extended to Zeke, Shauna, and the rest of Uriah's friends from high school, like Lynn and Marlene. Especially when Uriah and I were going through such a low period after losing my mom and his dad, it was nice to surround ourselves with people who cared about both of us. When my dad later died, I know Christina and Uriah worked as a team to keep me afloat, and I don't know what would have happened if they hadn't tag-teamed me. They won't admit it, but I swear they had a schedule of one or two people a day to stop by my house and check on me, bring me food, do my laundry – whatever I needed. The two of them together were unstoppable.

"At it again, huh? Team Save Tris?" I joke, referring to how much they've already done for me.

"Team _Love_ Tris," she says softly. "He'll be ok." She puts a hand on my shoulder to comfort me, and starts to open her mouth again, but the sharp ring of my cell phone cuts her off.

"Uriah," I say, reading the incoming caller's name aloud. I almost silence it before deciding to answer.

"Hello?"

"Where are you?" His voice is filled with urgency.

"Dauntless. Why?"

"I'm coming to get you. Four is in the hospital."

* * *

TOBIAS

I don't initially register the commotion in the hallway because my head is pounding and I'm trying to focus on anything but the pain. Reynolds, two doctors, and an investigator from Internal Affairs are all in my room asking me questions about everything from my health and pain levels to what exactly happened in the warehouse.

I hadn't been knocked out for very long, apparently, because by the time that happened, my team had already figured out I'd been made and were on their way to save my sorry ass. I can't tell anyone what happened between that time and when I woke up in the ambulance because, frankly, I don't know.

As the noise continues from the hallway, I eventually recognize Uriah's voice. "Stop! Slow down! Wait!" I hear him repeating over and over. I don't know why he'd be so damned worried about me until I hear a louder, firmer voice.

"Get the fuck out of my way!"

Then I see her. She's on the other side of the glass door to my hospital room, and she comes to an abrupt halt when she notices she's finally reached my door. She freezes, staring at me intently through the glass. Her sweater is falling off of one shoulder and her hair is slightly disheveled. I imagine that she probably just shoved Uriah off of her while he was trying to calm her down and slow her pace. Her mouth hangs slightly open, probably shocked at the sight of me. I haven't seen a mirror, but I know from the way I feel that my appearance must be harsh. Her purse falls off of her shoulder and she doesn't even notice it or lean down to pick it up.

Then, suddenly she's moving towards me, sliding open the glass door forcefully and not taking her eyes off of mine as she makes her way towards my bed.

"Uh, Miss Prior," the IA investigator says. "You can't be in here right now."

"Shut up," is all she can muster in return, without pulling her eyes away from mine.

And then she's at my bed, lowering herself onto it gently, as not to disturb my body. She scoots as close as she can to me and takes my face softly in her hands. We hold that position, staring at each other, until her eyes move around to take in my bruises and swelling. I don't even care where she's touching me or what she's doing, because she's staring at me like I'm the best thing in the world. If a doctor were to ask me my pain level now, I would say zero, because Tris Prior has her hands on my face and is looking at me like she will never get enough of me.

"You stupid fucking moron," she finally whispers to me and I can't help but laugh. She stares intensely into my eyes, tears threatening to spill over. "Don't you ever go undercover without telling me first. Promise?"

I nod silently, because I can't seem to form any sounds with my mouth. She's talking to me like she loves me, like she cares about me, except for the 'stupid, fucking moron' comment, which I might just let slide.

I reach my hand forward to rest on her thigh, and before I know it, she's moving forward to press her lips against mine, moving her hands behind my neck to pull my head closer towards hers. When she pulls way, she presses her forehead to mine and then whispers again, but this time in a scared, quiet tone, "Please don't ever do that again."

"I promise," is all I can say back.

* * *

Tris sat next to me on the bed for what blissfully felt like forever, my hand casually resting on her thigh that was pressed up against mine. She listened to the doctors and their assessments of my situation, which is a few broken ribs, a mild concussion, and a badly bruised cheekbone. Then Reynolds finally ushered her out, where she sat with Uriah outside my room while the investigator from Internal Affairs asked me to recall the events. I recalled as much as I could, but I didn't have much information to give as far as what happened when our unit showed up. I was unconscious, after all.

When he's finished, Tris doesn't hesitate to come back in, but her movements are slower, less frantic this time. She listens as the doctors return and explain that I'll have to stay overnight, just for observation. As long as everything goes well, they'll release me in the morning with strict instructions that I should take a few days off. I'll be stuck with desk work for several weeks after, at least until my ribs heal. That's going to be the worst part.

Now she's sitting in the same position as before, facing me on the bed with her legs dangling off the side. Her hand lightly comes to rest on my chest. "Four," she says as she looks down at her lap. "I'm sorry about what I said…About 'rule number one'."

I bring a hand up to her chin and pull it up to look at me. "It's all right, Tris. I shouldn't have stormed out."

"I shouldn't have made you storm out like that. You just…you scare me. You scare the hell out of me."

My brow furrows. This conversation is not going in the direction I was hoping. I start to open my mouth, but she continues to speak before I can.

"But I don't really care anymore, because this," she gestures to everything around me. "This idea that I could lose you is scarier than caring about you… and scarier than being with you."

My hands begin to find their way up her body until they're settled at the base of her head, cradling it softly. "You'll never lose me," I almost whisper, and then I pull her towards my lips, finding her forehead and her cheek before finally resting on her lips, putting all my feelings and passion into this kiss to assure her.

I feel her scoot closer on the bed, her body is just inches from mine. I open my eyes and notice the curtain in front of the door is still open, so I pull away and nod to it, hoping she'll get up to close it. She does, and I can see the way she moves, almost timidly, like she's nervous about what she just shared with me. When she comes back to sit by me, she shyly smiles as I pull her back towards me, kissing her harder, more passionately, and letting my hands roam over her thighs, finding her waist, and even running through her long blonde hair.

She pulls away to look at me and we're both breathing heavily. "Those damn broken ribs," she whispers, because she has to be tentative and careful where she touches me, and I have to be careful of how quickly I move and how far I reach.

"They'll be healed soon. Then maybe you won't have to be so careful with how you touch me," I say, and I watch her look down at her lap to hide her blush. She bites her bottom lip when she looks back up at me, which makes her look even sexier than I thought possible.

Her phone starts buzzing and I can see when she pulls it out that it's Christina, but she silences it and puts it back in her purse. It immediately starts buzzing again and she pulls it out, trying to hide the concern on her face.

"Answer it," I urge her, and as she does, I notice the time. The bar is probably just starting to get busy with the Friday happy hour patrons. It always takes both Tris and Christina behind the bar on Fridays to handle the crowd. I hear Christina's urgent voice on the other end of the call and Tris gets up to move away from me to talk to her. I know she doesn't want me to worry about what's going on at Dauntless right now, but I know she'll be torn between staying here and going back to work.

When she hangs up I hear her sigh, but she doesn't turn to me right away. I decide not to make her choose between the bar and me, so I call her over. "Tris." She turns at the sound of my voice and her face softens. "You can go, if you need to."

She starts to shake her head, but I continue. "Really. If you need to go to work, go. I'm fine. I'll just be here."

"Are you sure? I don't want to just—"

I cut her off, putting my finger to her lips. "Yes, I'm sure. Christina needs your help, and I sure as hell don't want to feel her wrath for stealing you." She laughs softly for a minute and I continue. "I can come by in the morning."

"Come by?" she eyes me up and down. "How do you think you're getting home, Detective Eaton? My ass is coming to pick you up."

Now it's my turn to blush, because how I was getting home hadn't occurred to me. I like that she's not giving me an option and is claiming it as her responsibility to get me home.

"Actually…" she says as she shyly looks up at me from where her eyes were just focused on her lap. "I was thinking I could bring you home with me." Then she begins to ramble. "Or, I could go with you to your house. Or really, we don't have stay together, I just thought it might be easier for you to have someone with you who could help you with stuff or whatever…But just let me know what you want, I'll be here early before you get released—"

I chuckle as I sit up a bit to kiss her mouth and shut her up. "Wherever you're going to be, is where I'll be."

* * *

TRIS

I've never wanted a night at the bar to go by as quickly as I did last night. I even texted Four asking him if I should return to the hospital, but he texted back that he had already spoken with Shauna, who had confirmed for him that we were busy. I shot her a dirty look from where I stood behind the bar, and she shrugged and smiled. _Bitch._

I wake up early this morning, however, and only briefly hesitate to spring out of bed because memories of yesterday with Four are swimming around in my head. Words cannot describe the sinking feeling that occurred in my stomach, in my gut, when Uriah called me. I didn't have flash backs of my parents dying or the feeling of panic when I learned about my dad. I just felt like I needed to tell Four exactly the way I felt, as soon as fucking possible. I didn't even think about the possibility of him not reciprocating, and that's probably because deep down I knew we had been dancing around this all along.

I shower and get ready quickly, wanting to hurry up to the hospital to make sure I'm there before Four's discharge. Zeke already offered to pack up some of Four's things, like clothes, and bring them over to my house. I don't know if I am doing the right thing by inviting him here and expecting we should stay together, but he seemed to be ok with it. Actually, he seemed to really enjoy the idea.

The hospital seems quieter, less hectic, than yesterday. Of course, I'm also not running through it like a maniac, so that may be why the atmosphere has slightly changed. When I enter Four's room, he's out of bed and struggling to move with the IV pole still attached. I don't hide my giggle as I see his boxers peeking out from the back of his gown.

"Hey!" he says as he turns around, getting tangled with the pole again. "You're here early!"

"What are you doing up?" I ask him, seeing how moving is still a little difficult for him.

He grins sheepishly. "I wanted to shower before you got here."

"I do have a shower at my apartment, you know."

"I wanted to be clean when you got here. I haven't had a chance to shower since—"

I stop him. "It's fine. Wait till we get home." He stares at me, and I correct myself. "I mean, my place."

He still doesn't take his eyes off of me until he softly beckons me over. "Come here." He holds his good arm out and I find my way into his side, curling up and nestling my head right near his chest. "I'm excited to go home with you." I notice his use of the word 'home' the same way I did.

We're interrupted by a few nurses, who are here to take out his IV and unhook him from whatever else is still tethering him to the pole. Shortly after, a doctor makes his way in, giving Four instructions on self care. The doctor looks at me sternly and says, "I can already tell he's stubborn. It's up to you to make sure he takes it easy."

I nod, knowing that I don't have any chance at keeping him down, but try to appease the doctor anyway. When Four is finally finished talking to the millionth person and signing his hundredth paper, we head towards the parking garage and he insists on walking with me to the car rather than being picked up.

I sigh as we get in, because I know that the next week is going to be a constant battle of what he should and shouldn't do. I'm not his mom or his babysitter and I don't want to feel like it, but I know he's going to push himself. Probably because I know I would do the same.

When we get home, I know he's still dying to take a shower. Zeke has already dropped off his clothes and a few other things he thought Four would need, so I rummage through the bag to find his body wash and some clean clothes. I'm about to leave him to shower himself, when he reminds me that he can't get his shirt off without my help. I helped him put it on at the hospital, but it was a bit more formal setting. Now, I feel like this is a strangely intimate moment as I hold the shirt and guide it over his head and down his injured side. He never breaks eye contact with me, and as I let the shirt slip off of his arm, I clench it in my hands because I can tell they're getting sweaty and I'm afraid if I'm not holding something, my hands might drift to other places…like his pants.

As if reading my mind, he takes the shirt from my hands and drops it, pulling my hands onto his waist. "You can help with those, too." It's a low, deep suggestion, and when I slip my fingers under the elastic of his waistband, I can already feel how strained they are because he's fully hard, staring at me with a look of lust and longing.

I slip them off of him, followed by his boxers, and then bring myself up to his lips, kissing him deeply. I feel his erection against my abdomen and there's nothing that I want more than to undress myself and I climb into the shower with him, but I don't want to risk doing anything to hurt him.

As if he's reading my mind again, he pulls his left arm back down slowly, and I know he was reaching too far for his ribs to handle. I ease myself away from him and rest my forehead against his bare chest while he runs his right hand through my hair.

"This really fucking sucks," he says aloud, and I laugh at his honesty.

"Maybe you need a cold shower," I tell him as I raise my head. "Take care of that for me so I don't feel guilty."

He pulls away as he chuckles to himself and I turn to walk out of the bathroom before stealing one last look at his naked frame entering my shower. "Hey, Four?"

"Huh?" He's pushing the shower curtain back, one leg already in the tub.

"You are unbelievably sexy," I say boldly, before leaving and closing the door behind me.

* * *

I'm thrilled that the next day is Monday. Christina held things down at Dauntless so I could take Sunday off, but now I have another day to spend with Four…in my apartment…with no distractions. Well, other than the whole broken-ribs-thing, which is distracting us from doing a great deal of things we are interested in, like getting naked together. I'm surprisingly able to keep him from doing anything too strenuous, but mostly because he's with me and I'm being just as lazy as he is.

By Monday night, as we're getting ready for bed, Four wanders into my bedroom before I've had a chance to put on a pair of shorts, finding me in only a tank top and underwear. He comes up to me from behind, wrapping his right arm around my waist and bringing his hand to rest on my stomach, dangerously close to my underwear.

"Don't."

" 'Don't' what?" I turn my head slightly back towards him, taking in the heat I feel from him.

"Put more clothes on."

I sigh. "I don't think it's—"

"I know this is how you sleep when I'm not here." He knows this because multiple times he's come over, after somehow obtaining Christina or Uriah's extra key to my apartment, and dragged me out of bed for breakfast, or a run, or whatever else we were doing so God-awful early in the morning when I'd already had a night that was way too late on top of it. The first time he did it, we had both been uncomfortable. He threw the covers back on me so quickly and then hightailed it out of my room when he saw me in just my underwear. But after that, he was a little more careful and even if he did catch a glimpse of me in my underwear, he didn't act uncomfortable.

"It's not just when you're not here. It's when you're fuckable, too." _I can't believe I just used that word._

"Fuckable? Really Tris? Can't we refer to it differently?" He laughs at my choice of vocabulary.

I raise the side of my mouth. "More able-bodied?"

"Better." He kisses me on the mouth, but quickly before pulling away. "Just let me sleep next to you like this."

I stare at him slightly before nodding. Although we slept in the same bed last night, I moved away from him slightly every time I woke up because I was too nervous about rolling over or hitting him in my sleep. It's been a long time since a man has been in my bed. Or, a man that I would feel bad punching in my bed.

He lightly smacks my butt as I turn around, heading to the bathroom. When I return, he's already sprawled across the bed, his strong side open for me to curl up to, which I do.

"I've waited a long fucking time for this," he says finally, taking a deep breath.

"For what?"

"You…me and you."

"I know." I smile because the same thoughts are clouding my head right now.

"And to get you down to your underwear. Although, I had better plans for after your clothes were off, and they didn't involve sleeping."

"Soon." It's all I can manage to whisper, because I guarantee we have the exact same plans.


	9. Chapter 9

**Here is chapter 9! Eunice339 did a fabulous job editing it & correcting all my mistakes. I swear my words wouldn't make sense without her!**

* * *

TOBIAS

I know I'm supposed to take a full week off of work, but since they've got me on fucking desk duty until I'm healthy enough to work in the field again, I figure it can't hurt anything to go in anyways. Whether sitting at Tris' house or sitting at the precinct, it's going to equal the same amount of physical stress and activity, so no worries.

When I arrive at the precinct, Reynolds doesn't seem exactly thrilled that I'm there when I'm not supposed to be, but still welcomes me back. Amar and Zeke both appear happy to see me, but Zeke silently gives me a warning look as he nods toward the break room. I turn to look and even from behind it's easy to make out that it's a female from her thin, curvy body and the long brown waves hanging down her shoulders. When she turns, her brown eyes brighten up and she smiles at me. _Is she batting her eyelashes? Who the hell is she?_

"Four, meet Nita, newest member of Intelligence," I hear Reynolds say dryly. "Nita, this is Four."

Nita nods while she saunters over to me, extending her hand. I casually take it. I'm sure that anyone else would think she's gorgeous. She certainly has a body she works hard to maintain, but she also appears fairly high maintenance with her wavy hair and extensive make-up regime that I can already spot a mile away.

I turn back to Reynolds, confused, because even I know this isn't like him. He personally chooses whom he wants in Intelligence, and mostly he selects cops he's seen or worked with before; cops who have earned his trust. But this girl? I've never even heard her name. "Zeke will finish up showing you around," he says to her, and Zeke secretly rolls his eyes at me before casually nodding for Nita to follow him.

"Look," Reynolds says as soon as they're out of earshot. "She's not your replacement, she's not anything. She's just an addition."

"Where'd she come from?"

I see the anger rise through the veins in his neck, creeping up his cheek until it steals his face. "From IA, that's where. And now we're fucking stuck with her. I didn't exactly run through the proper channels to get you undercover, so now I'm taking heat for it." He shakes his head as if he's pissed. "I'm not sure if she's here as a bug, or if she's a punishment, or what. So we're just going to watch ourselves for a while, all right?"

I nod and see Moore listening intently, silently agreeing as well. The other member of our team, George, appears to be attentively working on something at his desk, that is until I hear him grunt, "Fuck that," under his breath.

"I don't want to hear it. We just have to deal with this." Reynolds' voice is raised, and I can feel the growing tension.

George finally looks up. "I'm just saying. It's not fair that she gets that advantage. She's coming here after doing nothing. She probably couldn't even score on the damn aptitude test."

"I'm not giving it to her. I don't trust her. Nobody tells her about that." Reynolds leaves us and goes back to his office, but Moore turns to me.

"The aptitude test used to be given to everyone who came out of the academy. But Sergeant Prior was the only one who was smart enough to really understand the results." He laughs at the memory. "When everyone else figured out what he was doing, they did away with it."

I've heard this story before. Before officers graduated from the police academy, they used to take a test that would tell them which department they had aptitude for. Leaders of different departments would then seek out those that had an aptitude for their department. But Sergeant Prior would instead seek out the officers that came back with aptitudes for multiple departments. He figured out that officers with multiple aptitudes could adapt more easily to any situation, be more successful in a variety of atmospheres. Those were the officers he wanted. No one else had ever taken his approach to the results before.

Aptitude testing had to be terminated after everyone learned of his approach, because suddenly all the leaders were seeking out officers with multiple results. It got pretty ugly, especially for those who only had one aptitude as a result. Reynolds still uses the test on us, but only after we have already been selected and brought into the unit. He said it just helped him to learn a little more about our strengths and how he could best use us, and I see his point.

I nod in understanding, remembering the information I learned at the academy. Reynolds could get his ass handed to him if they found out he was still testing us. If he couldn't trust Nita, he definitely didn't want to give her the test and hear from headquarters.

"What do you think of her?" I ask Moore, feeling unsure about having someone we can't trust in our office.

He shrugs. "I don't trust her. You probably shouldn't, either."

I take in the situation, mentally trying to assess how I should handle this. I decide to try and act like nothing is going on, and sit down at my desk, firing up my computer. I know there isn't much for me to do around here since I'm on desk duty, but I can at least pretend to be productive.

Zeke returns after a few more minutes with Nita, and I can see the uncomfortable look on his face. He shakes his head at me to dismiss the situation for the moment as Nita saunters over to me again. She stands in front of my desk, crossing her arms under her breasts and jutting one hip out to the side. I almost groan at the blatant sexual atmosphere she's trying to conjure up. I don't take my eyes away from the monitor though, tapping the keys on the keyboard.

"So, Four, welcome back!" She attempts to speak to me like an old friend and I don't appreciate it.

"Welcome back? You weren't even here before I left." I say, void of emotion.

Her face displays shock for a brief moment, but then she pastes her confident smile back on. "Maybe we should all head out to get drinks tonight. Get acquainted."

 _I've got to get out of here,_ I realize, racking my brain to figure out how I'm going to make this work when she's already making me feel uncomfortable. I tap in a few more keystrokes before standing up abruptly. "I'm going to see Matthew. Nice to meet you, Nita."

When I get downstairs to Matthew's office, he nods and smiles. "I knew you'd be back before long," he says matter-of-factly. "Couldn't stay away, huh?"

I laugh. "Well, I get a little bored after Tris goes to work." It slips out so casually, like it's an everyday occurrence for my schedule to work with Tris'. I guess, or I hope, that now it is.

"Yeah, I heard about that." He gives me a sly grin. Matthew doesn't know Tris as well as the rest of the unit because his office is downstairs in the warehouse where we keep equipment and he doesn't join us as frequently at Dauntless. He's a little less social, often feeling more comfortable with a computer than people. But with coaxing and encouragement, Zeke and I can get him out every once and a while.

"About damn time," he adds.

I laugh and pull a chair up. "That's what everyone seems to be saying."

"How do you think she'll handle Nita joining us?"

"Ugh," I groan at the mention of her name.

"I know."

"I just like being able to trust my unit, trust the people I'm working with." It bothers me having Nita disrupt that.

"I worked with her a little bit, before," he admits this slowly, like he doesn't want people to know. "She's an all right cop, I guess. I don't know if she'd ever let anyone get hurt. But she's not a good person."

"Did you tell Reynolds?"

He nods, sipping the water on his desk. "Yeah, last night. Just don't broadcast it outside our unit."

I lean back in the chair, agreeing with him. "That's a good idea."

* * *

I slip into a seat at Dauntless and Christina greets me from behind the bar. "You went to work, didn't you?" She eyes me suspiciously.

"How'd you know?" I give her the same questioning look back.

"Tris and I have been betting on how long it would take you to sneak out of her apartment and get back there. She had a little more faith in you and gave you a few more days." She smiles. "I guess I win."

I laugh, thinking about how Tris must've known I couldn't stay away from work and sit at home. She was already reading my thoughts before I was. "What'd you win?"

She slides a Heineken towards me. "A Friday night off. So… thanks!"

I look down at my beer and wipe the condensation off, laughing to myself. It's so like Tris to make a bet, knowing I won't be able to stay away from work as long as I was ordered. She's not even mad or upset, or trying to get me to stay home. I feel a grin spreading through me, but I stop when I see a shadow, and there's a guy sliding into the bar stool two seats down. He nods in greeting, and I return it.

"Police?" he says it in a way that makes me to think he is too.

"Intelligence," I respond with a nod.

"Ah. I work at the 23rd." He pauses. "Do you come here often?" he asks.

"Yeah," I say with a slight laugh. "I do."

He glances around the bar. "I've been here a handful of times. It's a cool place. But the blonde bartender here is a fucking hot bonus, isn't she?"

I know he's talking about Tris. Christina's caramel complexion and dark hair doesn't leave much room for misinterpretation, and I can't blame him for being intrigued by Tris. _Who wouldn't be?_

"Not this girl," he continues after Christina serves him a beer. "Although she's pretty damn hot, too. But the blonde…you know who I'm talking about?"

I smirk to myself. "Yeah, I do. She's pretty good-looking."

"'Good-looking'? I'd say she's a lot more than that. I could stare at that ass all day."

"Is that the only reason you come here?" I ask him, now starting to feel a little uncomfortable with his opinion of Tris and ability to check her out with no shame.

"Nah. A few of us meet here after work, I'm just early today." He glances at me up and down. "How's the intelligence unit?"

"Good," I say simply. I love my job and I usually enjoy it, but I'm not sure how I feel about it at this particular moment with the addition of Nita. "It's a good unit to work in."

"How's working for Reynolds? I hear he's a dick."

I laugh. Reynolds _is_ a dick, but there's no one I'd trust more with my life, no one else I'd want calling the shots. "There's no better man for the job," I say matter-of-factly.

Shock crosses the other guy's face and I laugh. "Never thought I'd hear that."

I shrug my shoulders, not wanting to divulge more information. Reynolds is a private person and he prefers our unit stay that way also.

He opens his mouth to continue, but we both turn our heads as we hear a jingle of bottles emerge from the back of the bar. Tris comes out carrying two 12-packs of beer and when she sees me she breaks into a smile.

She puts the beer down by the cooler and makes her way towards my section of the bar. She leans on the bar to raise her short frame up and pulls my arm to get me to lean in. "Hey, baby," she says before kissing me. It's not too quick or too long, but I can feel the heat from the man's eyes a few seats down.

Tris releases me and I lean back onto my seat. "Hey."

"I lost, huh?"

"How'd you know?"

She smiles. "You're dressed, it's your normal time to be off work, and you look…a bit happier?"

I run a hand through my hair. "Well, yeah. Sorry you lost."

She shrugs. "I wouldn't say I _completely_ lost," and she glances up at me from whatever she's doing behind the bar with a suggestive smile. "Let me restock some beer and then I'll come eat dinner with you."

I smile in agreement and she disappears to the stock room again.

I glance over at the guy two seats down, who's red with embarrassment, his hands held up defensively. "Hey man," he stutters. "I didn't know—"

"Yeah, she's pretty 'fucking hot'," is all I can muster up, and he nods and slinks away from the bar with his beer in his hand.

* * *

When Tris makes her way over to me with our dinner of two beers, two burgers and a plate of fries, she gives me a smile and I can tell she's not at all mad, nervous or worried about me going back to work early. Any of the other women I had dated previously would be whining, saying that I needed more time off. Or they'd get all emotional, telling me how scared they were for my safety.

Instead, Tris just asks me, "How was the first day back? Was Reynolds pissed or just surprised?"

Tris is so perceptive, but she's so unaware that she is. She knows the people around her so well she can predict their emotions and actions before they can. I can't help but feel a little proud of her, and then I realize I have to tell her about today, about Nita.

"He may have been a little pissed, but he didn't tell me to go home, so he couldn't have been that pissed," I shrug and Tris chuckles.

"He picks his unit for a reason. Everyone in it is a stubborn asshole like him." She looks at me sweetly and pats my cheek. "He'd be disappointed if you weren't breaking doctor's orders. Those are the people he wants to work with. My dad surrounded himself with the same type of people too."

"Do you think he would've surrounded himself with me?" The question is out of my mouth before I even realize it, still just a thought I was turning over in my mind.

She smiles at me sincerely, rubbing a hand across my back. "I do."

I hold her eyes for a moment and then look down at my plate. I need to tell her about Nita.

"There was a surprise, though." She gives me a questioning look, letting me continue at my own pace. "We, uh, got assigned a new member to the unit."

Her mouth drops. "What? Assigned?"

I let a snort out of my nose, agreeing with her disbelief. "Yeah. It's bullshit."

"Four, I don't think anyone has ever been _assigned_ to Intelligence in…well, in my lifetime." She takes a swig from the beer glass in front of her, staring at the wall in disbelief. "Why?"

"I guess Reynolds is getting some heat. He said he didn't really clear my undercover op the way he was required to, so this might be a punishment of sorts… Or something."

Tris slides a hand onto my leg. "Just be careful around her."

I cover my hand with hers, gripping it with my fingers. "I will be."

We continue eating, but I can tell Tris' brain is still pregnant with this information, evaluating it and dissecting it over and over.

"Is she hot?" she asks it suddenly, like it's been eating at her the entire time since I said it.

My arm slides around the back of her chair. "I was too busy thinking about you to check her out, so I don't really know."

She smiles, but then punches me in the arm a second later. "That means yes, you just don't want to say it."

I throw my head back, trying to find the words that won't upset her. "Tris, any other guy would probably think she is. But in complete honesty, I cannot even glance at another woman because the only one I want to look at is you."

She looks me up and down from the corner of her eye. "I guess that'll do," she says as her mouth twitches up.

* * *

TRIS

Four leaves the bar tonight at a decent time because he plans to go back to work tomorrow. I'm a little disappointed he won't be at my apartment when I get home, but I didn't exactly offer it to him either. _Wouldn't he ask if he wanted to stay? Or maybe he needs a break from me? Who knows!_

"So..." Christina attempts to start a casual conversation as she saunters over to me, but I can tell something's on her mind.

"What, Christina?"

She laughs at my bluntness. "Oh geez. I wasn't going to—"

"Yes, you were."

I can hear her sigh, and then she leans her hip on the cooler. "Is lover boy back at his apartment now?"

"I guess." I shrug like it's no big deal, attempting to sound like I'm not upset.

But Christina sees right through me, as usual. "You're upset! You miss him already!"

I shake my head. "No, I'm just worried about him."

"Ha! You are the worst liar, Prior! You weren't worried about him going back to work. You just don't want him sleeping alone without you."

I groan. "Will you shut up if I say I miss him?"

"No. You need to admit you're in love with him."

"Not happening. I am just going to miss him being in my bed when I get home." I hoist up a box of recycling on my hip. "That's it."

"I bet he was in your bed… _naked_!" she yells after me, and I can hear her deep, boisterous laugh afterwards.

* * *

I let the weekend pass before I decide it's time to take a trip to the precinct. I haven't been there since the day I showed up looking for Four, so I arm myself with some fresh fruit and make the walk over to the tall building on Williams Street.

"Hey, Tori," I say as I walk towards the desk.

"Tris," she calls me over with a wave. "I just want you to know that I don't think Four ever walked past my desk with a smile until yesterday."

I try not to blush, but she can see straight through me. "Oh, just go get your little ass up there," she says with a smirk on her face. She hits the buzzer and I enter the stairway to take me upstairs.

When I get up to the next level, I find Four with Zeke at his desk, and a gorgeous, curvy, sex-on-a-stick female walking from the break room towards them. Her shirt is unbuttoned about two buttons too many, and her pants hug her in all the right spots. She hands Four a cup of coffee, but I see him shake his head and push it back towards her. A slight pout arises on her face, but only for a brief moment, before I see her flash him a flirtatious grin and cock her head to the side. _Barf!_

I haven't moved from the top stair and it's not until George notices me that I do. "What's up, Prior?"

Four's head snaps up over to me and I am relieved that he doesn't appear to look guilty, or nervous, or anything but excited to see me. He gives me a big, toothy grin and Zeke hollers from next to him. "What ya got today, Tris?"

I slowly move into the office and Four comes over to meet me, taking the heavy bag out of my hands. "Am I allowed to kiss you here?" he whispers and I giggle like a 12-year-old.

"Afraid of your big, tough boss?" I tease him.

"When it comes to you? Yes!" He's talking softly, but I can see the amusement in his eyes. I'm sure he knows there is silent pressure from Reynolds when it comes to our relationship. I debate sneaking him a quick kiss when I hear a sharp voice behind him.

"Four? Do we get a lot of visitors _like this_ up here?"

"'Like this'?" I respond back, not sure what she's insinuating about me.

"Um… I mean, is it really professional to get visits from…the opposite sex…at work?" She says it like she's trying to choose kind words, but I can tell she's trying to offend me.

I stick my hand out as I step around Four. "Hi, I'm Tris."

"Nita, this is my girlfriend," Four says as he places a hand on my back. The words cause my breath to hitch. We haven't exactly discussed what we should label ourselves as, and I guess as adults it's not really necessary. I think our feelings between each other don't really need to be said because they are evident in the way we show them. But hearing him stand before this attractive woman and declare that I'm _his_ makes me feel a little warm on the inside.

"Hi," she says distastefully as she barely shakes my hand.

Four deposits the bag of fruit on Zeke's desk, noticing that his friend is eyeing it suspiciously.

"Damn Tris! Hooked us up again!" He grabs a peach from the bag and dives right in, taking a juicy bite. "Four better not fuck this up cause I'd sure miss seeing you around here."

I laugh at Zeke's joke and shake my head. I'm about to make a jab at him, but Nita inserts her own shitty comment. "So, she's just allowed to saunter up here whenever she wants, huh? No matter what kind of case we're working on? She's just a _civilian_." She spits the last word out like it tastes bad.

"She's allowed up here whenever she wants," Reynolds says as he barrels out of his office. "And it has nothing to do with Four," he adds when he sees Nita's eyes drift between us.

"I just don't think—"

"Is this your unit?" he asks flatly and Nita shakes her head no. "All right, then. When you're a sergeant and you get your own unit, you can make whatever fucking rules you want. Until then, you listen to mine."

He turns to me and whispers, "Make sure everyone behind your bar is fucking licensed. _Everyone_." He emphasizes that last word and moves his eyes in the direction of Four. _What the fuck is this girl after me for? I let Four behind the bar one time to help me, and suddenly Reynolds knows? And it's a problem?_

I nod in understanding then follow Four over to his desk. "I thought I'd fill this out," he says as he secretively opens his desk drawer to reveal a liquor license application. "In case you need some help again."

"You and me behind the bar together?" I eye him up and down, flirtatiously.

"Yeah, we did all right before, didn't we?" He leans towards me. "I think we'd do all right together in other places, too."

I try not to blush and hide my face, not wanting that moment to be obvious to everyone else. "I think we might need to rehearse that before we know for sure."

"Come over tonight?" he asks, partially assuming I will be there. "I'll make dinner."

"I'll be there." I quickly squeeze his hand and let my eyes graze the room. "I better get out of here for now."

I say goodbye as I leave the floor, heading downstairs and stopping at Tori's desk. "Hey Tris," she mutters. "Don't worry. I'll keep an eye on her."

I nod, and I'm not quite sure if I should be grateful that she's doing this or sad that she feels the same suspicions I do.

* * *

TOBIAS

As soon as I'm about to leave work, I send Tris a text so she can meet me at my apartment. I feel slightly overeager, but I don't really care because all I want to do is spend time with her. I'd never wanted to socialize directly after work before. I'd go home, wind down and maybe occasionally meet some friends for drinks or dinner or whatever. But all I can think about is getting home to her, which is a strange but welcome feeling in my mind; _home to Tris_.

I get there before her, but she arrives shortly after, and I already have dinner on the stove. She moves around me, smelling what I'm cooking while placing her small hands on my back, then sliding them around my waist. "Is it strange that I missed you?" she says from behind me, her face buried into my spine.

"Only if you think it would be strange for me to miss you, too."

She smiles, and although she's been to my apartment so many times before as a friend, this is her first time here as more than that. She wanders around, looking at the small amount of personal items I have around the place. I left most of my larger items in Indianapolis, selling them or passing things down to friends. When I moved back to Chicago, I furnished my apartment with mostly new items, but it's still pretty bland and if you walked in, the only personal photo you could find would be one of me, Zeke, Uriah and Hana – the only family I have.

Conversation is light as we eat, and I know it's because we don't have much to catch up on. I tell Tris about the guy at the bar, talking about how 'hot' she is. She gets uncomfortable and looks at me with hopeful eyes, praying I'm not upset or jealous or mad. All I can do is laugh, because I know she's not interested in anyone else, and I'm oddly happy that there are other men who desire the girl that only has eyes for me.

When we're finished, she insists on doing the dishes, but I help her load them into the dishwasher as she rinses them off. Tris moves around so effortlessly and efficiently in my kitchen that you would almost think it's her own. As she hands me the last dish, she waits for me to set it down before pulling me towards her, snaking her arms up around my neck, even though they're still damp from the water.

"This is so much better," Tris murmurs as she pulls me down to her, her eyes closing as I get nearer.

"Then what?" I ask her before planting my lips on hers, lightly.

"Hiding. Lying. Denying." I know exactly what she's talking about. All of those moments I felt so desperate to press my body against hers, meet my lips to hers, but denied myself because we weren't sure of what was going on between us. There's no uncertainty now, no hesitation. I lightly push her back against the counter and reclaim her lips with mine.

I'm still sore and tender. I probably would be advised by my doctors not to do this right now, but I can't imagine waiting any longer and I don't really want to, either. So, I let my lips travel to her neck, her ear and then to all the different places they have yet to explore on her, but have so desperately wanted to.

"Mmmm…" I hear her voice trail. "Four…"

"Yeah?" I murmur back.

"Take this…off." She reaches out to me, helping me remove my shirt from my still injured torso up over my head then down my arm. Her fingertips trace my chest and abs, winding their way around the curves on my muscles and striking up feelings in my southern regions.

I pull her back towards me with my strong arm before running a hand up through her hair to the base of her head. I feel her own hands tangle in my hair, giving it a slight tug as I reach under her T shirt to take it off.

"God," I mumble looking down at her body. "The things I would do if it weren't for—"

"These fucking ribs," she finishes with a smile.

"Ugh," I groan. "If I could, I'd hoist you up on this counter-"

Tris hops up onto the counter as soon as the words are out of my mouth, pulling me to her quickly. "Shut up," she says against my lips.

I feel Tris' heels pull me against her, pressing me to where I want to feel her most. Then she moves her hips back and reaches down, undoing my pants and letting them drop to my ankles. I step out of them then use my hands to urge her off of the counter. I guide her towards my bedroom, migrating slowly through my apartment while I relieve her of her pants and cradle her head with my strong hand, still not allowing the contact of our bodies to break. She breathes deeply when she feels my arms around her waist; one of them sliding down to her ass.

I smile as we finally end up in my bedroom, but then I realize for a moment how awkward this will be for me to ease myself down onto the bed without causing pain, but also without making Tris worry.

"Stop it," she says, sensing my anxiety. "I know that you're still hurting. You don't need to try and hide it."

I smile back at her, so grateful for her ability to read my thoughts and rid this moment of discomfort. I ease myself down onto my good side, rolling over and then feeling Tris' body covering mine, her legs straddling me as her lips crash into mine. "Just tell me…" she breathes out, "if I'm hurting you."

I feel her grinding her hips against me, her wetness dripping down the sides of my erection where it's pressed against her. "You could never hurt me," I mumble into her neck while placing soft kisses against it.

We take our time exploring each other, touching and reaching for parts we haven't seen yet, not wanting to rush the moment that we both know will happen eventually. I have to resist the urge to let go when she rises up and I look at her, questioning if she's ready to give herself to me.

She stares into my eyes and nods then slowly eases herself onto me where I'm positioned at her opening. "Ohhhh…" I hear escape her mouth. "Four."

"Tobias." I say without warning. "My name…it's Tobias."

She nods at me, her eyes wide with surprise and passion and lust and a million other feelings that are indescribable at this moment.

I grab her breast with my mouth as she blissfully grinds her hips in so many different ways on me, letting more noises escape her. "This is… oh, my God… so good," she barely squeaks out between ragged breaths.

I can feel her tightening around me, but I can also feel her resistance. Her head drops onto my shoulder and all I feel is the heat radiating off of her body, the light beads of sweat that were pooling on her forehead dripping onto my chest. I can hardly control myself. She needs to know that I want to feel everything she's feeling, just as much as I want to feel my own.

"Baby," I whisper, understanding now how hard it was for her to get her words out. "I want to feel you. Come on me."

And that's all she needed to hear before a loud, passionate moan escapes her mouth, her fingernails digging into my tense shoulders, followed my own fingers tugging her hair. A string of curse words I didn't even know I knew follow as I empty myself inside of her.

I listen to her heavy breathing as it gradually slows from where she still lies on top of me. After a few moments, she raises herself up to meet my lips and I start to apologize. "It'll be better when I'm healed."

"That was amazing. It doesn't need to get any better… Tobias." She uses my full name hesitantly, as if she's not sure it really belongs on her tongue. "Don't apologize."

She rolls off of me a few moments later and then eases herself up to go to the bathroom, and I can't help but admire her beautiful figure as she walks away from me. She returns with a washcloth for me as well, cleaning me up before heading back to the bathroom and grabbing my T shirt. She pulls it on over her head before easing herself back down next to me.

"This is where I belong," she whispers. "Right here."

And I couldn't agree more.


	10. Chapter 10

**I'm sorry this chapter took a bit longer to post! Hopefully it was worth the wait! Eunice339 did wonderful beta work, as usual. Thanks for all your feedback on chapter 9. Can't wait to hear what you think of chapter 10!**

TOBIAS

When I wake up Friday morning, Tris isn't in her usual spot in my bed where she's spent most nights this week. Thursdays are typically long nights at Dauntless, so she stayed at her place. I'm sure she got home late and exhausted, but I can't help but wish she were here next to me. I'll see her tonight, though. Shauna, excited about getting a promotion at work, has declared that _everyone_ must go to Dauntless tonight to celebrate with her, and Zeke and I didn't argue. I know she's arranged for a large crowd to be there and Zeke even invited some old friends of hers to come celebrate too, hopefully as a surprise.

As I head to work, I think about how things have been at the precinct. I've only been back a few weeks, but I feel uncomfortable around Nita all the time. And unfortunately because I'm on desk duty, there have been plenty of moments where we were left alone and she felt the need to try to get personal with me despite my attempts to politely avoid them.

Knowing that I've been around her the most, Reynolds pulls me into his office to ask me what kind of vibe she has been giving me; how I am reading her. I'm honest with him and I can sense his agreement, although he doesn't voice it. When I open the door to leave his office, I spot Nita hanging out just a couple feet away. She looks over at us and boldly asks what we needed to talk about in private. I could sense Reynolds' frustration, wanting to tell her it was none of her concern or her damn business. So, I decide it's best to step in. "My recovery. I prefer to keep my medical status private."

"Fucking pansy," Reynolds says under his breath to cover up our conversation. Nita seems appeased by this and the suspicion leaves her eyes before she scoots closer to me.

"Well, I overheard you and Zeke talking about everyone going out tonight to get some drinks." I watch as she leans in towards me, causing her cleavage to show more. "Care if I join you?"

I shrug, turning away from her. "It's actually a get together for Zeke's girlfriend. We're not just 'going out'." I'm not sure if she'll get the hint or if she'll continue to pry more, so I walk towards the small break room that's really just a too-big closet with a fridge, sink and table squeezed into it. I stifle a groan as I hear her follow me, her heeled boots clicking against the floor.

"I think it'd be fun to spend some time with you guys, you know, get to know you better. Especially…" her voice trails before becoming husky as she adds, "outside of work."

I move away from her, feeling my skin crawl at her insinuation. I want to spit out that I have a girlfriend, but she clearly already knows that since she met Tris here and also considering how often Zeke and I banter about both Tris and Shauna. "Look, I would really appreciate it if you could act a little more professional around here. We have to _work together."_

Nita must misinterpret my words as a sly grin develops on her face. "I guess I can keep it professional ' _around_ _here',_ Four." I feel her fingertips getting dangerously close to me, so I back up into a chair to avoid her touching me. Thankfully Zeke pops his head into the break room as she's about to open her mouth and likely let out more disgusting suggestions.

"Hey, Four, we gotta go. Got a suspect."

I hightail it out of the break room, only hesitating long enough to stop at my desk to grab my gun, and then head out of the office as fast as I can.

Once we get outside, I don't even argue with Zeke about who's driving, which is a rare occasion reserved only for birthdays, holidays, and fights with Shauna. "What the hell was going on with Nita?" he asks me without even thinking twice.

I shake my head, trying to rid myself of the feeling of slime crawling over me. "She doesn't get it, or she just doesn't care, which I'm starting to think that's more of the case. She knows I'm with Tris."

Zeke shrugs. "A lot of guys don't really care if they've got someone at home, man. Maybe she's hoping you're the same."

"But Tris is _always here._ Nita had to have heard about Tris's relationship with Reynolds and Amar. Do you think she'd really do that to herself, surrounded by the people in this unit?"

Zeke takes a deep breath. "I think she doesn't care. She's probably got some ace in her pocket she can use if it comes down to it."

I snap my head in his direction. "What do you mean?"

He shrugs. "I'm not exactly sure what her angle is, yet. But, she's the only woman we've had in the unit since Tori became a desk sergeant. Maybe she's thinking she can use that to her advantage. Claim that Reynolds is sexist or some shit."

As much as it surprises me, Zeke has considered something that I hadn't even thought of, and he has a good point. Tori moved to the desk sergeant position just a month after I came to Chicago. She'd suffered a leg wound on duty and had already undergone a long recovery period before she could even walk around comfortably. It was hard for her to leave the unit, but she's hopeful that with continued physical therapy, she'll be back to join us soon. Shauna consults with Tori and works out with her a couple times a week out of friendship.

"It was actually Shauna who made me think of it. She was talking about her promotion and how hard it can be to work with male clients and younger male therapists sometimes. They think less of her as a therapist because she's a woman. It just made me think about Nita."

"When did you get so fucking smart?" I quip with a smile. "Who knew?"

He punches me jokingly as he turns the corner, before his face grows serious. "My other worry is that this is about Tris. Someone might be sending Nita to use you to hurt Tris."

"Who would want to hurt Tris?" I hadn't even thought that this could be about her. Tris doesn't have any vengeance with anyone that I know of.

"Look – everyone in the CPD knows that her dad was probably the best damn cop this city ever had. But you know how Reynolds doesn't always stick to the straight and narrow? Well, her dad didn't either." Zeke shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "He shared with me some stories when I first told him I wanted to be a police officer. He said there were things about being a police officer that haunt him at night, and that I had to be able to deal with that."

"Does Tris know this stuff?" I ask him. "I don't want to know stuff about her dad that she doesn't."

He nods. "She knows… _everything_."

I breathe out deeply, not realizing I was holding my breath waiting for his answer. I let him continue talking without asking any more questions.

"Her dad was well-respected, but of course there were still people who didn't agree with him. Like with the aptitude test… A lot of people were pissed he was using it in a different way and not sharing his theories. They wanted their units to be the best and I think sometimes people just got jealous hearing about how great he was." He glances over at me and I can't alter the look on my face to be normal.

"Four, man, it's just a theory. I don't know anything for sure. I'm just throwing things out there."

"Yeah, I know and I appreciate it. I do." I shake my head to clear the thoughts and run a hand through my hair. "We'll figure it out."

* * *

I head over to Zeke and Shauna's before going to Dauntless that night. I grab a card from the drug store on the way and write the most heartfelt message I can muster up for Shauna. She's one of the few people that I have allowed to weasel their way into my life and I'm actually pretty grateful for that. Over the years, Shauna has managed to be a little bit of Hana and a little bit of Zeke rolled into one. She's not as soft or sweet as Hana, but also not as rough and tough as Zeke tends to be on me. At first, I felt uncomfortable becoming close friends with her, but Zeke was more than thrilled. He felt that if his girlfriend and his best friend could become friends, it solidified his relationship with her. Never once has he been upset about Shauna and I talking or texting without him, even the one time he came back to the apartment we shared in college and found Shauna next to me, rubbing my back while I read the most hurtful letter I had ever received from my father.

I don't really give her enough credit sometimes, and I think…actually, I know that I haven't been nearly as powerful a friend to her as she's been to me. But that's part of what's great about Shauna: she's giving. She can be an asshole at times and she sure puts up with a lot of immaturity from Zeke, but she's a damn good person to have on your side when your ship is sinking. Tris told me that when she opened Dauntless, Shauna was one of the first people to get her liquor license in order to help cocktail or bartend when Tris was shorthanded. Even now, she told me Shauna is always willing to get up and give her a hand.

Her promotion to a supervisor is well deserved, even though Shauna is probably younger than a lot of the other therapists at her clinic. I already know that anyone fortunate enough to work with her has got to be the luckiest person in the clinic, because she'll push them to be the best therapist they can be.

I arrive at their apartment building, which is a small building in a quaint neighborhood. They moved in together immediately following graduation, and while Shauna is the responsible and more mature person of the duo, Zeke has no problem following her lead and admitting that she knows best. I knock softly and Shauna answers, greeting me with an enthusiastic smile. "Four!" she exclaims it as if she's been waiting all day to see me. I congratulate her and hand her the card before she jumps up, enveloping me in a hug.

"I'm so glad you could make it out tonight."

"Of course." I wouldn't miss celebrating something for Shauna. "I'm really happy for you. You deserve it." I think about how lame my words sound. I really suck at relaying my feelings.

"Yeah, well, I've heard about you and Tris getting all heated up." She looks at me out of the corner of her eye. "It's about fucking time!"

I blush and put my head down, trying not to look like an infatuated middle schooler. "Yeah, I guess it was."

She doesn't comment on the way I act, but just pats my arm knowingly and walks towards the kitchen. "Zeke is almost ready," she says. "He should be out any minute. Do you want anything to drink while we wait?"

"Stop catering to other people when this is _your_ celebration," I instruct. "I'm fine and you are _not_ going to be responsible for getting anyone drinks tonight. That's our job."

"Hell, yeah, it is!" Zeke shouts. As he enters the room, he wraps his arms around Shauna's waist from behind, kissing her cheek. "The boys are taking care of you tonight!" He releases her, slaps me on the shoulder, and then moves towards the door. "Let's head out!"

The cab ride to Dauntless is quick as they don't live very far away and traffic is generally light on Friday nights in this neighborhood. It makes me happy, because I'm excited to see Tris and relax with our friends. Uriah and Will are coming and Zeke already confided in me that he had arranged for a large circle of Shauna's friends to be in attendance. Tris gave the night off to Christina since she had won their bet and asked one of the waitresses to bartend with her instead. She had also scheduled an extra cocktail waitress to strictly take care of our group of friends, knowing the bar will be a bit busier with everyone celebrating, which makes the night a little more exciting than I'm used to.

When we arrive, there is already a group of people, mostly women, squealing in excitement for her. They're happy to see her, but even happier to celebrate her hard work, and I see Zeke beaming proudly at her. Before I know it, Tris sneaks away from the bar to slip her arms around me and reach up to plant her lips on mine.

"Hey," she almost whispers. "I'm glad you're here."

I smile and return her kiss, leaning down to her this time. "Me, too."

"I have Molly working your group tonight. I told her to make sure she takes care of you guys, especially Shauna. But let me know if you need anything."

I nod, wondering why she's always treating us like customers when we expect nothing out of her. "You too, you know." I pull out my wallet, exposing my new liquor license to her. I put in my application and took the first class available. Then, afterwards, they signed everyone's licenses, telling us we were free to serve alcohol in any Illinois establishment.

"Ohhhhhh!" she says as she pulls it out of my hand and holds it up to her eyes. "Look at you!"

"Well, you know, now I can help you back there whenever you're busy…or bored." I squeeze her butt at the thought of moving around her behind the bar, recalling the way our movements were so fluid and simple the first time.

"I appreciate that," she says as she rises to kiss me again. "I've gotta get back there, but come get some drinks."

After greeting her friends, Shauna joins me at the bar, leaning her shoulder into me playfully. "Thanks, Four. I know you had to help Zeke with this."

I smile. "It was actually all his idea." Zeke has really grown up in the past few years, and it's more evident now that I see him on a daily basis. "He really is proud of you," I tell her, giving a nudge back, which causes her to smile.

"He should be!" Tris says as she mixes drinks in front of us. She hands me a Jack and Coke – I love that she knows exactly what I want to drink without me having to ask. She then hands a vodka and tonic to Shauna. "It's on me tonight."

Shauna reaches over the bar to squeeze her hand. "Thanks, Tris."

Tris smiles back at her before Shauna's attention is stolen by Tori, who walks into the bar and yells her name as soon as she's in earshot. I can already tell that Shauna is thrilled by Tori's presence as she runs off to greet her. Tris just nods to our group of friends. "Go have fun," she says. "I'll see you later."

"Yeah?" I ask her just to make sure she's all right.

"Yep. And please, be ready to get naked later." She flashes me a flirtatious smile before I watch her walk down to another customer at the end of the bar. That girl.

The night starts to become overwhelming as we're surrounded by people I haven't seen since high school graduation. During that time, I hung out with Zeke and Shauna and so, I guess, I hung out with their friends too, although I wasn't exactly an active participant in the group. I was probably considered more of Zeke's friend than 'their' friend, but that was fine by me at the time. To my surprise, a lot of people seem both intrigued and surprised by my appearance at the party, and several people inquire about my life now.

I never really thought of Shauna and Zeke's friends as bad people, I just wasn't in a position to let more people get close to me. Everyone they've kept in touch with seems to have moved into adulthood in the same way Zeke has, accepting responsibility and maturity as it comes. Unfortunately, I don't get many opportunities to be with Tris while she works, but I point her out to the few people I catch up with when they ask if I'm with anyone. I'd be stupid not to shout from the rooftops that she is mine.

"I've come by here before," says a girl named Maria. "She's really nice. She owns this place, right?"

I nod in confirmation. "She does."

"Wow. That's awesome. Ambitious." I can't think of a better word to describe Tris, especially in her business endeavors. "I'm really glad you're happy, Four. I always thought you deserved it," Maria says before turning to another conversation with her friends, and I agree with her. I do deserve it.

Tris is exactly who I'm thinking about, not to mention starring at, when a body I barely register plops down next to me on the leather couch.

"Hey, you," a voice says next to me, and I turn my head with a nervous look. Next to me on the couch, wearing a short, revealing dress, is Nita.

"Uh, hi." I scoot away, trying to put some space between us, but she readjusts herself so that her knee rests against mine.

"I hope you don't mind, but I overheard you guys talking, and I knew you were coming here… You didn't exactly tell me I wasn't welcome." She twirls a piece of her hair between her fingers as she talks. Is she trying to be seductive?

"I can't really tell you where you can or can't go after work." My voice is flat as I search the bar for Tris, but can't find her over the heads of customers seated near her.

She leans towards me, her cleavage brushing up against my arm. "I just thought it sounded fun."

I nod and take a sip of my drink, unsure of how I'm supposed to get out of this situation. "We're actually here celebrating Zeke's girlfriend's promotion. Maybe you should go introduce yourself to her." I point to where Shauna and Zeke are, happily socializing with their friends.

"Maybe you could introduce me?" She bats her eyelashes at me and I have to swallow hard to maintain my drink without throwing it up. Besides the fact that I feel zero attraction to her, this is my girlfriend's business, and I'll be damned if someone disrespects her in it.

"I don't think that's necessary. You don't seem to have a problem intruding."

Nita leans forward, putting her mouth dangerously close to my ear despite how far I pull away from her. "I'd like it better if you did it."

"FOUR!" I hear my name loudly from the direction of the bar. "I need a case of Stella, baby!" Tris is smiling at me, sweet and sarcastic all at the same time.

"I gotta go," I say as I jump out of my seat and head to the back stock room. I don't really know if Tris actually needs a case of Stella, but I know I need a break, so I shake my head and run a hand through my hair before grabbing the case of beer. Turning to move up front, I see Tris making her way to me.

"Are you ok?" she asks when she sees me. "You look awful." She leads me over to a cooler, pushing me on it to sit.

"I just…" I let my voice trail. I hadn't really told Tris about the extent of Nita's uncomfortable advances. I just said that I didn't trust her and I wasn't sure what her intentions were in our unit. I probably should have been more honest, because Tris just saw her coming onto me, hard.

"Hey," she pulls my head to face hers. "It's fine. I'm not upset."

"You're not?"

"I just wanted to get you the hell away from her." Tris smiles at me then pulls me in as she hugs me around my shoulders. "It's ok."

Her hands stay on my neck and I let mine rest at her waist. "We should probably talk about it later."

"We should. But go back and have fun. Seriously." She urges me out from behind the bar, smacking my butt as I near the end of it.

"Hiiiiii," I hear a voice overcompensating. "Four, honey, can you have your friend get me a Long Island?"

Ugh. Nita again. "She's busy, I'm sure she'll get it when she has time." Just for effect, I pull Tris in for a kiss on the mouth before walking out from behind the bar. She waits on another customer before making Nita's Long Island. And only because I know Tris, I watch her as she slyly spits in the cup as she mixes the alcohol together. That's my girl.

* * *

TRIS

Seeing another woman lean into my man is really not something surprising. When we were just friends, I watched countless women hit on him, and an even higher number of women eye him from across the room. In the beginning, it made me feel a bit uncomfortable, but that's probably because I was also concerned about the way he felt about me and our lack of honesty.

Now, seeing a woman come onto him just kind of irritates me because it's pretty obvious to anyone who sees us that we are together. Particularly this woman who works with him, who I've met. I can tell by the look on his face that he's disgusted and uncomfortable, but I also know he doesn't want to be so rude that work becomes uncomfortable too. And because he respects Reynolds, he doesn't want to bring drama to the unit. Man, I can read him like a fucking book.

I'm kind of upset that he didn't tell me about this sooner. He should have given me a heads up about what was going on. But I'm not pissed enough to bitch at him right now, so I yell his name across the bar. "FOUR! I need a case of Stella, baby!" I've never yelled a pet name across a bar in my life, but desperate times call for desperate measures. He jumps out of his seat like someone lit his ass on fire.

I assure him that everything is fine, because I can tell he's visibly upset by everything going on around him with that bitch, Nita. I don't want to ruin the night, especially for Shauna. So, I calm him down and am about to send him on his way when Nita approaches and orders a drink.

What I really, really want to do is serve her a mix of the grossest, bottom-shelf alcohols covered by her stupid Long Island Triple Sec, but because I'm not sure how avid a drinker she is, she may taste it. So, I resort to a low tactic that another bartender taught me years ago. I slyly spit in the cup I'm making her drink in. Is this mature? No. Is this good for business? No. But do I care about that shit? No.

"One Long Island!" I chirp happily, sliding the drink towards her. "$9!"

I quickly slide Four a vodka and tonic along with his Jack and Coke. "For Shauna," I say, giving him a quick out while Nita is stuck digging into her purse for her card or money, or who knows what else, because my boyfriend is not fucking buying her a drink like she's expecting.

* * *

It's later in the evening and I'm rubbing the back of my neck when I feel Four come up next to me. Without speaking, he swipes a card on the register, ringing up a customer I wasn't even aware he served.

"What are you doing?"

He shrugs. "You look overwhelmed, and I kind of miss you from over there, so I decided to get back here and spend some time with you."

I never thought I'd be so excited to hear those words. "Thanks," is all I can muster, though.

"Do you need a break?" he asks me, looking at my face. "You look exhausted."

I laugh. "I don't know why, but I am. I'll just run to the bathroom."

"Go," he says before planting a kiss on my forehead. "I've got it."

I slip away, splashing some cold water on my face before sitting on the toilet. I try to finish as quickly as possible, remembering he said he wanted to spend time with me. But I am starving, and I remember the protein bar in my desk from this morning, so I sneak into my office and grab a bite. But apparently I took a bit too long because as I return to the bar, Four is serving a group of guys while Nita sits at the other end, looking at him longingly.

"Four…" she whines. "Can I please have a shot?"

He ignores her, continuing to serve the guys closest to him.

"Come on!" she whines again. "I'll do… _anything,_ " she insinuates this with a lick of her lips, "If you keep serving me."

I stand next to Four, sighing quietly. "What are we going to do?"

He glances at me casually, trying not to let her see the tension in our conversation. "I don't know."

I let my eyes flit over the shelves of alcohol bottles before settling on the bottle of Canadian Mist whiskey, which retails for about $8 at the liquor store because it's quite possibly horse piss in a plastic bottle. I only keep it on hand because sometimes poor, college kids come in for cheap drinks, and that's the cheapest it gets. I know because I was one of those poor, college kids at one point, and I have also had my own share of Canadian Mist experiences.

I grab a shot glass and fill it, then make my way over to her and slide it down. "$5."

"What is that?" she spits out the words, surprised at the dark color in the glass. I watch her bring it to her nose and sniff it. "Whiskey?"

Four is behind me, his hands on his waist. "I love whiskey. Don't you, Tris?"

"Mmm Hmm," I agree, looking up at him. I can tell from the twinkle in his eye that he knows exactly what I poured into that glass. "My favorite."

"Well, Nita, you ordered a shot. Tris just assumed we all had similar tastes, I guess." He turns away from us then hollers over his shoulder. "Guess you should stick to your girly drinks."

Nita's eyebrows are high and I can see the flush in her cheeks, both revealing her anger to us. She lets out a deep breath and then tosses the shot glass back.

Her eyes get wide and her hand smacks the top of the bar in disgust. I can see her struggling to swallow, and then she actually pinches her nose to force herself to swallow the harsh brown liquid. I stifle my laughter by biting my bottom lip. When she finally chokes it down, her mouth hangs open and I watch her stick her tongue out in disgust. "What was that?!"

"Karma." I turn and walk away.

* * *

TOBIAS

I wasn't expecting Nita at the bar tonight and now I really regret not telling Tris about her recent inappropriate actions at work. It's not that I was planning on keeping it from Tris, I just didn't want her to worry and be concerned. And I really didn't want her trust in me to waiver. But now, I've dug myself into a deeper hole.

When we walk back to her house after closing up the bar, she links her fingers in mine. "Can we just talk about Nita tomorrow?" she asks me. "We've both been drinking, we're both tired…" her thoughts trail.

"Tomorrow will be better," I agree honestly. I don't want to get into a drunken, exhausted fight over something we could calmly discuss tomorrow, in the right frame of mind.

"You know I'm completely crazy about you, right?" she says as she pulls me to her once we're inside her apartment. My arms go around her waist and I look down at her.

"I've never doubted that." I bring a hand to her face, caressing her cheekbone and sighing at how my omission made her think that our feelings were less than what they really are. "I don't ever want you to think that I feel any less than that, either."

I see a look of relief cross her face, and I let my lips slowly find their way down to her. "You're it for me, Tris," I mumble against her, not wanting to see her reaction of shock or surprise, or possibly more.

She turns around and pulls me with her, towards her bedroom. We kick off our shoes along the way then begin doing the same with our clothes. And soon, we're in bed, and no other words are necessary.


	11. Chapter 11

**So, major apologies for how long it took to get this up. I apologize to everyone who was waiting! I am an inpatient reader myself, so I hate waiting between updating. Hopefully you'll find it worth the wait!**

 **Thanks to Eunice339 for her beta-work!**

TRIS

"Are you seriously going to act like this all day?" Christina asks as we wander through the aisles of the department store.

"Like what?"

"All spacey?" Christina waves her arms around her head in exaggeration. "It's like you aren't even here."

"Probably," I answer carelessly. I'm still worked up about the Nita incident, and I have every right to be, especially since I know Four spends every day at work with her. I'm not angry with him or feeling threatened. We talked it over the day after she came into Dauntless and he told me honestly about Nita's comments and attempts at flirting with him. But I already knew that in reality there was nothing Nita had that he desired.

Then he had explained to me everyone's apprehensions about Nita, including Zeke's suspicions. It made me feel a little better about our personal situation, but it was still pretty upsetting as a whole. The Intelligence Unit is made up of some of the most important people in my life, people I love and care for, people that have become my family. The idea of Nita, and the people she may be working with, ruining the unit crushed me. I started thinking a lot about my father and how he had worked for so long to make the Intelligence Unit the finest unit in the city. He wanted to foster young officers into experienced and seasoned professionals, and Reynolds and Moore did just that along his side. If their work became tarnished, my father's legacy might go down with it-and he wouldn't even be here to defend himself.

The thought made me sick.

"Well, can you at least listen to the two important things I need to tell you? Then you can go back to daydreaming or wallowing or whatever it is you were doing." Christina stands across the aisle with a hand on her hip.

"Yeah, sure. Sorry," I say. I'm really trying to be apologetic, but my mind is exhausted from the constant state of worry it seemed to be in now.

"First, I was thinking that maybe we should start a special, like, Wine It Out Wednesdays, with half-priced bottles of wine. It will bring in a more female crowd." Christina is looking at me hopefully, wanting me to be as excited about the idea as she is.

I smile, thinking of a few memories from when I was younger. "It reminds me of my mom."

Her smile grows. "Me, too."

Christina has been my friend for years, well before my mom got sick. I don't really remember exactly when our friendship changed from being classmates to friends to inseparable, but it hasn't faltered since. Christina's mom worked full-time, so my mom was typically the one taking us to the movies and the mall, shopping with us and walking with us to the ice cream shop near our house.

She had visited my mom almost daily in the hospital. Even when family was supposed to be the only people allowed, Christina had waltzed right in saying she was the third sibling and no one could make her leave. My mom had laughed at her boldness and hugged her like she did the rest of us.

Later, when my mom was nearing the end and had moved home, I came home late from school because Caleb and I had to make up some tests we had missed. Christina was there, hugging my dad as he sobbed silently into her shoulder so my mom wouldn't hear. When I walked into my mom's room, it was apparent she'd had a rough day and the vomit-covered towels in the bathroom hamper were evidence. When my dad realized we were there, he tried to compose himself, to clean up the mess in the bedroom and bathroom, but Christina made him sit back down. She took care of everything, and afterwards she sat all three of us down and said, "This really fucking sucks for everyone. But it might suck less if we can all do it together." After that, I saw a lot more of my dad's tears and heard a lot more of his late night sobs, but I also saw relief on his face when he hugged us and when he cried, and even when he talked to us about his memories with mom. Without that moment with Christina, I don't think he would ever have shared his sorrow with us, because in his head he probably thought it would make the experience worse. But instead it made us closer and I got to spend the next years with my dad as my best friend. That's something I owe Christina for, forever.

"I think it's a really great idea," I say as I move towards her, hugging her tightly. "My mom would have loved it."

"Yeah," she smiles as her eyes get a distant look. "Remember that time in the hospital she begged us to sneak her in some wine?"

I laugh at the memory. "Yeah, you brought it in a coffee thermos and my dad thought it was for him."

"He spit it out all over the floor and your mom made him clean it up before a nurse discovered it!"

Christina laughs loudly, remembering the reactions everyone had to her sneaking a thermos of wine up to the hospital at age fifteen.

"Maybe we could do half off her favorite appetizers. Natalie's Night Out," she says, toying the idea around.

"I love it, Chris. Really, it's a great idea." I give her a one-armed squeeze around her shoulders. "Thanks for thinking of my mom."

"I think about her a lot, Tris," she says softly.

"Hey, didn't you have something else to tell me about?" I say, wanting to change the mood to something lighter.

"Oh… Uh… Yeah." She looks around nervously, which is odd for Christina. She's usually bold and loud and doesn't hide anything. "I, um…I hooked up with Will the other night."

"Hooked up?"

"Yeah… like, I went home from the bar with him and… slept with him. And not _just_ the sleeping way." She looks at me tentatively.

"I need to sit. And we need to get some coffee and talk," I say simply as I drag her out of the department store.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, when I'm sitting with a large mountain top mocha in front of me, I begin to question Christina.

"Does Uriah know?" I ask this because I know that it's probably Christina's biggest concern. Aside from maybe Will's feelings, she should probably be most concerned about her friend.

Although I became friends with Uriah first, Christina and him bonded as well. We all spent countless hours at the hospital, and the three of us continued our friendships well after my mom left the hospital and then after our parents both passed. I spent a lot of time with both Uriah and Christina during those last years of high school. Uriah was actually the one who got me started with running. He was a wrestler and football player, so he ran not only for the workout, but also for stress relief. After just a few runs with him, I was hooked on the runner's high, that feeling of relief I got from pounding the pavement.

Christina and Uriah also remained close, but they hit a bit of a difficult spot when one of Uriah's friends, Drew, became interested in her. Although we went to different high schools, Christina met Drew at one of Uriah's wrestling matches and then went on a few dates with him. She found herself uninterested in him after a short time, but Drew didn't really get the hint. He kind of started creeping Christina out with how often he would contact her, even after she'd told him she didn't want to go out again. It put Uriah in a really awkward place because he felt the need to defend both of them. However, when he started to see a little bit of Drew's creepy side, I think it made him question how he was ever friends with him, how he never noticed those things before. Drew was also his teammate on the wrestling team, so when things didn't work out the way Drew wanted, he blamed Uriah and called him a 'cock block'.

Not that Uriah really cared, but it put him in a really uncomfortable spot and after that, things kind of changed for him in school and with sports. It was probably difficult too, because we were both still struggling from the loss of our parents. After that incident, he told Christina and I that we were never allowed to date his friends ever again. Although that has often been a joke over the years, I can tell Christina is still concerned.

"No…" Her eyes wander around the walls. "Unless Will told him. He left the bar long before us."

I nod, remembering that Uriah had gone home early, drunk and exhausted. "Yeah, he did."

She's silent for a moment. "Tris." She looks at me evenly. "I really like Will."

I gulp down my coffee. "You do?!"

She nods with honesty in her eyes. "I know I don't know him really well; he hasn't been Uriah's partner that long…" her voice trails, "but he's been to the bar a lot, and he's so cute. He just has this way he looks and talks and acts…it's so charming."

If I were a good friend, I would be smiling right along with her now, but I can't. Because I know what Christina's been through, and I know what this turmoil is going to entail for all of us, including Uriah.

"He does seem to be a good guy. Uriah likes working with him a lot." I consider this as I say it.

Uriah and Will only became partners a month or two before I met Four, when Uriah's first partner transferred to another district. They had gotten along pretty well, but he was an older guy, married with a family, and he and Uriah just didn't share many common interests or qualities. When Will was assigned as his new partner, Uriah was pretty excited to be working with a guy his own age, who seemed to be pretty similar to him. They became fast friends and it wasn't long before Will was hanging out at Dauntless with Uriah on his nights off. I'd met Will right away and liked him, but I hadn't gotten to know him very well because shortly afterward my free time outside of Dauntless had been consumed by Four.

"I just…" she pauses. "I shouldn't have slept with him right away."

"Right away?" I sense this discussion is going somewhere else.

"I...I like him!" She smacks her forehead with her hand while simultaneously stomping her feet in frustration.

"Christina, that's actually a normal feeling for people to have." I talk slowly, knowing I am treading deep waters.

"Do you remember what I was like after Peter? Do you remember how much my life _fucking_ _sucked?!_ " Christina looks around the coffee shop, hoping no one noticed her emotional outburst.

"Yes," I say as I look down at my coffee. _How could I forget?_ Two years ago, just after college graduation, Christina had walked into her apartment that she shared with her boyfriend, Peter, and found him in bed with another girl. She'd been hoping, thinking, and truly led to believe that now that they had graduated, a ring would be appearing, followed eventually by a wedding. That day she walked in on Peter, she tore the girl off of him, disregarding the fact that she was nude, and slapped her across the face before punching Peter in the stomach and following it up with a swift kick to his nut sack. I remember those details clearly, because Christina had been so happy she'd taken a kick boxing class her final semester of college.

It hadn't taken long for her to begin tossing both of their clothing and all of his belongings out of the window and into the yard. Afterward, she knew she couldn't stay in the apartment where she'd caught him doing _that_ with someone else. So later that night, Uriah and I went to her apartment, packed everything she wanted up, and brought it back to my place. It took months of Ben  & Jerry's eating, Riesling drinking, feminist movie watching nights for Christina to piece herself back together. But the worst part was how she closed herself off to any man, any idea of romance. Men would ask her out on a date and she'd run in the other direction, never even considering the possibility…at least, until now.

"How can you say that it's normal, then?"

"Not everyone is Peter!" I say it with more emotion than I mean to.

"And what if it doesn't work? Then my life sucks again, and Uriah's life will suck again!"

"Christina!" I tilt my head while I look at her. "What if it _does_ work?!"

She puts her head down on the small round table in between us, groaning.

"How'd you end up going home with him?" I ask, my emotions calming.

I can hear her smile before she lifts her head. "We just wound up talking a lot since I had the night off. We always talk; I've gotten to know him pretty well, but Uriah is usually around and I think he's felt a little uncomfortable. But we both had _a lot_ to drink, and Uriah did too, so he wasn't really paying attention this time."

"So, all it took were some drinks for you to finally open up...flirt...let your guard down?" I press.

"He's just a nice guy. He loves his job for all the right reasons. He has a lot in common with Uriah, personality-wise. He has this super sexy smile he does when he's talking about something important to him. Did you know he's from rural Illinois? Where people just farm and shit. He got a scholarship to school and was going to go pre-med. He's so smart; he took college classes in high school, but when he moved here to go to the University of Chicago, he—"

She stops mid sentence, looking at me. I'm sure I have a goofy smile pasted on my face, because I can already tell what Christina is feeling. Or rather, trying not to feel. It's the same way I felt about Four for a long, long time, without ever wanting to admit it. "You're in looooove," I say teasingly. "So how… was it?"

"Well, honestly, I don't remember all of it. But I do remember enjoying it." Christina actually blushes at that statement.

"Good for you!" I want to smack her on the back. I can't remember the last time Christina had sex, which is odd, considering she did _a lot_ of that while we were in college.

She looks at me thoughtfully and then scrunches her eyes shut. "I need to tell Uriah."

"No."

"What?"

"No. You need to talk to Will."

"What if he's told Uriah?"

"Then he's stupid. He shouldn't go run and tell his partner he slept with one of his closest friends. You need to talk to Will and figure out if this was a one-time thing or if it's going to be something more. After you talk, then you can tell Uriah." _She doesn't need to involve Uriah until she's figured her own shit out,_ I think.

She sips her coffee some more and I swirl my almost empty cup. I see her eye me suspiciously. "What about you and Four? Are you guys doing the dirty?"

I can feel myself blush. "Yeah, we are."

"And?! You never share details. Is it good?" She leans forward, as if it'll pull the answers out of me.

"Yes, it's good. It's very good."

"That's it?!"

I nod, getting up to toss my empty cup out. "Yep, that's it." I walk towards the garbage and wait at the door for her. "Come on, we've got more shopping to do."

* * *

Two weeks later is our first "Wine It Out Wednesday" night. It's sunny and the natural light coming in through the windows seem to be a comforting sign to me, as silly as it sounds. We've half-priced most of our wine selection and offered buy one, get one half off appetizers. Christina and I are behind the bar while Susan, our new girl, and Marlene are cocktailing. Tori and Shauna are happily perched at a high top table near the bar, fresh from their weekly workout together. Shauna had just shared with us that Tori was improving her physical strength and might be able to return to the Intelligence Unit sooner than expected.

Tori had come up from the beat under my dad. She'd worked her butt off and was especially creative in her approach to working cases. After a few occasions of pulling her up to help on certain cases, my dad finally pulled her up to work in Intelligence, permanently. Tori respected my dad and he held her in high regard. He didn't care that she was a female; she was an asset to the unit and a hard working cop just like everyone else. While it can still be a little difficult for females to be successful as police officers, Tori didn't seem to notice how some people treated her differently, or questioned her abilities. In Intelligence, she was an equal, and she loved it.

Getting shot was something that really tore Tori apart, but only briefly. George, her partner, wouldn't let her get down on herself. When she was removed from the unit to work at the desk, he still urged her to work her ass off to get back to the unit. With the help of Shauna, they are going to accomplish that goal, no matter how long it takes.

"I told everyone that came into the district about your special tonight. I think it's a good way to get some women in here since your boyfriend is scaring off the men." She laughs at me as she says it.

"He doesn't scare anyone off," I jokingly argue as I wipe the bar down in front of me.

"No, he just crushes their dreams of picking up the hot blonde bartender," Shauna sips from her glass of wine. "You're behind the bar, so you don't hear the things they mumble about you."

"Oh, stop. Four is not sitting out there being super protective. He's fine with it."

"Yeah, but it's very well known now that you two are together," Tori states flatly. "I mean, all you have to do is look at you two."

"Really?" I stop wiping and look up at her. "Is it obvious?"

Shauna releases a deep sigh of frustration at my lack knowledge. "Tris, you really are oblivious, aren't you?" I give her a look, waiting for her to continue. "His entire face softens and then lights up when he sees you. I've never seen him look at anyone, ever, in all of my years as his friend, with that emotion. And you have this special smile that's only on your face when he's around."

Tori smiles widely as she hears Shauna talk. "I haven't seen you smile like that in years, Tris."

I blush at their words, but Shauna continues. "And you're just natural together. It's like your movements are always in sync. When you're both behind the bar, everything is so fluid, like it's a fucking dance or something. I can't imagine what the two of you are like in the bedroom…" her words trail off while she gets a thoughtful look in her eyes.

"Ew, Shauna! Gross!" I shout as Tori smacks her playfully in the arm.

"Aside from that thought," Tori says as she looks at me meaningfully, "I think your dad would be really happy for you, and really proud of your choice in men."

That is one thing I hadn't really wanted to think about, my dad's approval. He's not here to give it to me, so I'll never know for sure if he's happy or disappointed in my life decisions. I try to just be hopeful that he's always proud, always agreeing with the paths I choose. With Four, I think I was nervous that my dad wouldn't be happy with my choice to pursue someone in his line of work, but maybe he would be. If Reynolds and Moore are pleased with Four, than obviously my dad would be too.

I hear a jingle from the doorway and see Zeke, Will, and Uriah entering with Four following behind at the end. I see him scan the bar, probably looking for me, and when his eyes land on me, I see exactly what Shauna was talking about. His face softens and then lights up, and he smiles at me from where he stands.

"I think he would be, too," I softly reply to Tori, before walking over to Four and slipping my hands in his while he leans down to kiss me.

"You're in a good mood," he says through his smile.

"I'm really excited about this. And, you're here, so that always helps." I pull him towards the bar where I show off our special menu for our new Wednesday theme. "Want to try some wine?" I eye him up and down, because I know he is not a wine drinker, but I'm curious if he'll drink it for the occasion.

"We are _not_ drinking wine," Zeke exclaims as he comes up next to Four. "Sorry, Tris, this is great and all, but, yeah, we're not drinking wine."

Four glances at me and shrugs with a smile that makes me melt, but I'm not upset. "Yeah, I figured. Beer tonight?"

They nod in agreement, giving me their preferences as I reach into the cooler. Just as I'm sliding them their beers from across the bar, I see none other than Nita walk in through the front door. Four's eyes meet mine and I can see the frustration cross his face.

"It's no big deal," I hear Zeke interject. He must have noticed what captured our attention. "Reynolds and Amar are coming tonight."

My ears perk up. "They are?!" While they come here often, they aren't here as frequently as the younger group, but I understand why. Their presence is always a welcome surprise that makes me feel a little more at home in my own business.

"It's a nice way to remember Natalie," Uriah says distantly, and I know he's thinking of both of our parents. "Mom was going to come, but she's working the night shift tonight."

"That's ok." I place my hand over his on the bottle, appreciating his sentiment. "There will be plenty more."

* * *

The bar slowly fills and I see a quite a large number of new faces, which is pleasing. Joe is slammed in the kitchen, so much so that Four asks me if he should go back and help him. But Joe insists that he's fine and urges Four to return back to his friends, which he does. When I follow him out a minute later, I see him standing uncomfortably on the opposite side of Will, as his previous seat is now taken – by Nita. She giggles foolishly and I almost gag at the fake show she's putting on for my friends. I see Will roll his eyes at Four, but I can tell that Four is not happy, nor is he ready to let this roll over.

Just the other day, we were eating lunch during his break when he told me about Nita's continued flirtations and pursuits of him. He was frustrated, aggravated, and disgusted. "I didn't sign up for this shit," he mumbled. "I don't deserve any of this."

Then he rubbed his forehead and smacked the table. "Fuck, Tris. _You_ don't deserve any of this. You didn't want to be with me in the first place because I'm a cop… and now you have to deal with this shit."

"Have you talked to Reynolds? You know you can trust him."

"I tell him everything. Every day. After everyone leaves." He then leaned in closer to me, whispering his words. "We're covering our asses. That's all I can say."

He was worried I'd be jealous or angry with him, but I've seen the way Nita looks at him. I've gone up to the precinct several times and, despite his careful attempts to avoid any bit of contact or avert his eyes from what she's constantly presenting him, I've watched her purposefully place her body into his line of sight or situate herself so he can't help but brush against her as he walks in between furniture or doorways.

"Tobias," I said softly as I put a hand on his arm. "We're fine. I'm not worried about us." A lingering kiss and a hand caressing his cheek was all he needed to calm down and relax, allowing us to finish eating in peace.

Now at the bar, I look at him knowingly as I uncork two bottles of wine, and he returns my gaze. I serve the bottles of wine with several glasses to a group of women on the other end of the bar before taking care of a few other customers. When I return my gaze to my friends, I see Nita, pushed up against Four, between him and another barstool while he remains facing forward. I can see the tension in his brows and he's murmuring words to Will so secretively that I can barely even tell he's talking.

Will glances around and I think he's probably looking for Reynolds or Amar to come and break things up, but I know they aren't here yet because I haven't seen them.

I know that whatever is going on at the precinct is more important than this bitch being all over my boyfriend. But I am so fucking over her and watching her attempts to flirt with Four that I can't help myself. I march over, past Four, and move closer to her and where she's leaning on the bar.

"I don't know how you don't get it yet, but you need to back the hell up." That's as nice as I can muster right now.

"Ha…what?" she says, as if she has no idea what's going on. "Four and I—"

"There is no 'Four and you'!" I can feel my voice raising. "Stay away from him."

"Honey, at work, things are so different," she starts, pretending to be sweet. "We—"

"You need to back the fuck off!" I yell and I don't care who hears it.

She laughs lightly. "I don't know if you get this, but you aren't actually a member of Intelligence, and you're not needed there. Four and I, we are, because we do important work there."

"He is nothing to you! He is a co-worker, another detective that you have the privilege to work with, just like everyone else in the goddamn unit. If you can't fucking treat them with respect, then you need to leave and find another place to work."

Nita looks at me and laughs, but I try to remain calm.

"Get the fuck out of my bar," I growl.

Nita starts to laugh again and stands up from her seat. "I'm not going anywhere. Tonight… or ever."

I walk out from behind the bar, entering the seating area, and she turns towards me, stepping away from Four. "I said, get out." I move towards Nita and I don't really care who's watching us or what they think is going on.

"Tris…" I hear Zeke warn me softly, like he knows it won't do any good anyways.

"He told me he wants me to be professional at work. He didn't specify about elsewhere." She covers her mouth with her hand for a moment and then gives me a sick, dirty look. "Guess daddy can't help you with this one."

I can't help it as my fist pulls back. I can't help it when my hand collides with her face. I just do it, allowing my anger to take control of my body and make the decisions for my mind. I don't care when I hear her cry out and stumble backwards. I don't care when she pulls her hand away from her nose, revealing blood. I drag her by the arm and push her towards the front door.

Just as I get her to exit the door, I look out onto the street, and there stands Reynolds and Amar.


	12. Chapter 12

**Here is Chapter 12. Sorry again for the wait. Hopefully you'll feel it was worth it! I appreciate everyone who has taken the time to read and review the story :) Thank you to Eunice339 for her awesome beta work and suggestions. Enjoy!**

TOBIAS

I've been sitting at my desk all day, waiting for the inevitable. I glance at a photo of Tris and I occasionally, thinking of what will possibly happen because of the incident at Dauntless on Wednesday night and I know it probably won't be good.

To put it nicely, Amar and Reynolds intercepted Nita just as Tris was _urging_ her out of the bar. If either Zeke or I had been the ones doing that, Reynolds would have been pissed. Instead, he just shook his head at the scene and said to Tris, "Why'd you have to go and do that, kid?" Then he put an arm around her shoulders and escorted her back into the bar. Amar hailed a cab for Nita, after helping her clean up a bit, and told her that she should take the next day off to heal.

"What the hell, Prior?" Reynolds asked once he was seated at the bar. Tris was standing across from him, leaning on the bar and throwing back a glass of wine, not bothering to sip it.

"Ughhhhh," she groaned in frustration. "I just couldn't take her shit anymore." She threw a hand up towards the door. "She's always in here, starting shit, flirting with Four, being a stupid _cunt bag_ ," she spat the words out, emphasizing her distaste for Nita.

"Didn't Four tell you we were dealing with her, on _our_ end?" he asked, already knowing the answer because he and I had already discussed this.

I decided to interject my comments into the conversation at that point, moving behind Tris at the bar and trying to calm her by placing my hands on her shoulders. "It's worse here than at work, sir." I look between Tris and Reynolds and then add, "Nita mentioned Sergeant Prior, and that was kind of what made Tris snap."

Tris looked away, down at the floor, and I can tell she hated that Nita even spoke her father's name.

"You know, there was this one time when we were younger, just after your parents had gotten married. We were all out to dinner, having drinks and whatnot, and the waitress was really good looking. Moore and I were chatting her up, trying to make conversation and keep her around. She kept coming around all right, but certainly not for us two clowns." He laughed at the memory, a distant look in his eyes as he recalled the story he was telling. "She was all about your father. Moving close to him, making sure to stand _real close_ to him when she was reaching for things on the table, stuff like that. We were at a pretty classy restaurant, you know. And eventually, your mom stood up and she really gave that lady a piece of her mind.

"Oh yeah, she said, ' _I don't care how many men look at you naked each night, but my husband certainly is not even looking at you with your clothes on. So, you can go take your pony show elsewhere, because we certainly aren't watching it here.'_ "

Amar laughed at the recollection of Natalie's statement. "I'll never forget that. I'd never met a woman like Natalie. Still haven't."

"Except for that little pistol right there," Reynolds said as he pointed at Tris from across the bar. It caused Tris to smile and bite her bottom lip, looking down at the bar while a single tear dropped down.

When she looked back up, she hadn't said a word, just slipped them each another drink while wearing a soft smile, and then turned towards the kitchen to see how Joe was holding up.

This morning, Amar explained it all to me. Reynolds would never have expected any of us to sit back and watch our loved ones being treated the way Nita was treating Tris. He was pretty surprised that Tris and I had both lasted as long as we did, but he had been hoping that Nita would screw up before something like this happened. The only problem, although Reynolds didn't really care, was that there had to be someone behind this who would be upset at this outburst. If they were after him or Tris, he had to be a little concerned about what would happen next.

"Sergeant Reynolds." A sharp voice snaps me back to reality.

It comes from a female, her blonde hair pulled back into a strict ponytail. Her uniform is plastered against her skin, crisp and probably up to the exact regulation it needs to be.

"We need to talk," she says it quickly, but it's a command, not a question. I have a feeling it won't be much of a discussion when she gets into Reynolds' office.

I watch him stay silent, but turn and walk towards his office. She follows him, walking stiffly and obviously attempting to give off a no-nonsense attitude. Once they're inside, she shuts the door and I know this is about me, Tris and Nita. The woman in his office is Jeanine Matthews and she's the Director of Internal Affairs.

Amar pulls a chair over to my desk and sits, uninvited. I don't know if I can handle hearing any more crap from him, any more explanations of Reynolds' outdated tactics and crazy behavior. "You need to tell Tris that Jeanine Matthews is here, right now."

"What? Why?"

"She needs to know."

I shake my head. "Doesn't she oversee all IA cases?"

Amar speaks softly, emotionless. "She usually only handles the high profile ones. You think Tris punching a random detective is major? This is personal, and Tris needs to know."

"How is it personal?"

I can see his frustration, but he is sure to bring his volume back down before answering my question. "That's not my business to tell."

I'm flustered and upset about not knowing the information Amar is talking about. I pull out my phone, tapping the screen until I find Tris' name.

 **Four: Hey, baby. Jeanine Matthews just showed up at the precinct. Amar wanted me to tell you. Is this going to be ok?**

 **Tris: Is she talking to Reynolds?**

 **Four: Yeah. In his office now.**

 **Tris: Did she talk to you?**

 **Four: No. What's going on?**

 **Tris: Don't talk to her. Don't say a fucking word.**

 **Four: What? About what? Why would she talk to me?**

 **Tris: Tobias. Promise me you won't say anything to her.**

I shake my head in frustration because she keeps dodging every fucking one of my questions. I would never talk to an IA detective without Reynolds or a Union Representative present. I'm not that stupid. But I don't think that this is what Tris is referring to, and it's sounding more and more personal by the minute.

 **Four: I promise.**

I spend the next twenty minutes trying to occupy myself before I can talk to Reynolds about what's going on. I'm worried about Tris, I'm worried about my job, I'm worried about a lot of stupid shit that I can't control right now. I try to distract myself, and I actually wish Zeke were here right now because he'd be able to distract the hell out of me with whatever nonsense he felt like talking about.

It hasn't been that much longer when I hear feet running up the stairs and turn to see a flustered Tris. Her face is red, her hair is messy, and she walks right past me, barely even glancing at me as she storms over to Reynolds' office. I watch her throw the door open without even hesitating and hear her voice travel out of his office and into the ears of everyone nearby.

"This doesn't have a goddamn thing to do with you!"

I hear what I think is Jeanine's voice talking a bit softer, but can't make out the words.

"You're so full of shit, you'd make a great toilet. Get the fuck out of here with all those lies you feed people. I don't buy them, Jeanine, because _I know you._ "

And in response to Tris' accusation, Jeanine just… _laughs._ What the hell? Tris obviously has something over Jeanine's head, but what the hell is going on here?

I feel Amar come near my desk again, and he pulls on my arm. "We should leave."

"No." I pull my arm back towards me. "What's going on?"

"You shouldn't hear it from her like this."

"Hear what?!"

He looks around nervously, unsure of how to address this question without spilling whatever they're yelling about.

"I know you have some interesting information on me, Miss Prior. But the truth now is that I have some very insightful information on you, too."

I see Tris step back at this statement. Just by looking at her, I can see a little bit of panic cross her eyes, but it's so brief that I hope Jeanine doesn't see it.

"I don't fucking care what information you think you have on me. You need to stay away from me. Stay away from everything and everyone involved with me." When I look back at Amar questioningly, I see he's running his hand over his forehead and I can sense his nervousness.

"Your father isn't here to protect you anymore, Tris. And he no longer runs the CPD. We will assign anyone to this unit who seems to be a good fit, and—"

She shakes her head in laughter. "Yeah, a 'good fit', so she can flirt with my boyfriend as soon as it's public knowledge that we're together. You're _real slick,_ Jeanine."

"Nita is a qualified detective and I see no wrongdoing on her part."

It isn't until then that I remember Reynolds is in the room, and I hear him step into the conversation, although I can only see one side of his arm through the doorway. "Actually, Detective Eaton has approached me multiple times about how uncomfortable Detective Santiago has made him feel, in and out of work. Her behavior is inappropriate and we were just about to file a sexual harassment complaint."

"There's no documentation of any of that. Your word against a female officer? _She'll win every time."_ Jeanine's words slice through the air and I can practically envision the smug look on her face as she says them. She thinks her plan has worked.

"You'll see, after the complaint is filed and all the evidence is brought to light."

"Well, Detective Santiago may feel the need to press assault charges against _you_ , Tris." Oh, Jeanine is good. She has a comeback for everything.

Tris laughs. "Assault?" I can hear the sarcasm in her voice. "I think all of us at the bar saw it more as me doing my civic duty to put a halt to her disorderly conduct. She probably shouldn't visit my establishment anymore since she can't hold her alcohol. I have the right to refuse service to those that disturb the peace for my patrons. Hey Four!"

I'm already staring at the door, so I don't have to pretend she grabbed my attention. "Yeah?" I don't even know if I'm supposed to answer her.

"Would you have a problem if Nita couldn't come to Dauntless anymore?"

"Fuck no!" I think I used a little too much emotion there with the f-bomb, but oh well. It would be a lot less on everyone's shoulders, because the stress Tris and I feel when she is around ruins the nights with our friends and worries them too, I think.

"That's solved," she says as she shrugs her shoulders and crosses her arms nonchalantly.

"Well, Miss Prior." Why does Jeanine keep going back and forth between the names she uses for Tris? "I guess we can arrange that, but then you might want to remember that a young man named…yes…Eric, may start having his weekly… Or is it twice a week? Anyways, he may start having his happy hour there again."

"Eric who?"

"You know exactly 'Eric who'. I feel so honored that he shared so many intimate details about you with me."

Tris is still, yet tense.

"I mean, maybe if Nita can stay and Four decides to not follow through with this complaint...maybe we won't have to share this information with anyone."

"No." It's the only answer she'll give, and I know it.

"Then maybe… Detective Eaton!" This time it's Jeanine calling my name, and I'm not sure how to respond. "Why don't you come here and discuss Miss Prior with us. I bet you didn't know a few things about her. The papers will be excited to hear them too… And the Drug Unit, well, they always need a new business to check out." The Drug Unit? Why would the Drug Unit have a reason move in on Dauntless?

"What the fuck do you want from me? Will it keep Eric away from me and Nita out of my bar?" Jeanine nods. "Then yeah, I'll say whatever the fuck you want me to say. I fucked up after my dad died. I made stupid decisions. I got lost." She maintains eye contact with Jeanine, and although I'm willing her to look at me, I can tell she's avoiding it.

"What stupid decisions did you make, Tris?"

"I tried a few drugs." Her voice is calmer, and she's not yelling any more.

"Such as?" Jeanine urges her on.

"What the fuck? You want to hear all about it? Fine. I fucking snorted a line of cocaine on three occasions. Is that good enough for you? Off of a fucking coffee table, in I don't even know whose house. And I smoked some pot, a handful of times, with Eric, and whomever else he was hanging out with that day. And then a few other nights, I took some pills. You want to know why, Jeanine? Because my father was fucking murdered doing the job he loved. And one day, that could happen to you. Do you realize that? But when that day comes, _no one_ will be mourning for you. No one will lose themselves over you and your conniving, manipulative ass."

Reynolds moves towards her, I can see him. He's reaching his hands out tentatively, but Tris won't have it. "Stay the fuck away from both of us," she says sharply, and then storms out of the building.

Amar tries gently for my arm again. "She can't see you." He pulls me away, down the stairs to Matthew's office, and I let him. I have no more brain energy to do anything else except follow him in the direction he's taking me. I know he was referring to Jeanine. The damage from Tris' words, the bluntness of them, was all over my face. I'm not mad at what she did, but I'm mad she's never shared it with me. Maybe not mad, but more disappointed.

"I didn't want you to hear it like that," he says when we're downstairs. "It shouldn't have come out like that."

"You knew?!"

"We all knew."

"Zeke?"

He nods. "It's not an easy thing to watch someone you love start to slip away like that."

"Slip away? What the hell. Her dad died! No one could stick around long enough to make sure she wasn't getting high?!"

"That's enough," Amar says it quietly, but harshly. "If you think she's the only one that suffered, you need to think again. I was the one that she called, because she was too high to think straight. And I was the one that drove through the whole damn city looking for her until I figured out where she was."

I sit speechless, knowing that I pushed too hard when I started to blame them.

"You think if Zeke died, you might hate your life for a while, too? I doubt Shauna would be your first concern 24-hours a day if you lost your best friend."

It's a slap in the face, I realize, what I said. Tris wasn't the only person hurt by her father's death. Amar, Reynolds, and Andrew had been friends for years. They helped raise the Prior kids. They were staples within each other's lives. And I just threw their best friend's death in his face.

"I'm sorry. That was wrong." I pause, but he doesn't respond. "Can I go call her? Try to talk to her?"

Amar hands me his phone, knowing I don't have mine. "Text her. Tell her you love her, you always will, that you're not mad. But leave her alone for a while. This won't be a quick recovery."

I text Tris from Amar's phone, saying exactly what he told me to.

 **Tris, it's me, Four. I'm not mad at you. I'm not upset with you. I love you…**

And then I stop. I haven't told Tris I love her yet, and I'm certainly not going to do it through a fucking text, even if it would be good for her to know that now, so I start over.

 **Hey, Tris. I just want to let you know that I'm here. This is Four, btw.**

I sound like a moron. Delete.

 **Baby, it's me. I just want to let you know I'm here for you. I am not mad or upset. I just want us to talk when you're ready.**

Then I hit send. I know she's probably running. She explained to me once that Uriah had gotten her into running, to help her to deal with the stress after her mom died. Apparently it wasn't enough of a distraction after her dad, but let's hope its successful now. I don't expect a text back, but I type another message anyways.

 **Amar is making me stay down in Matthew's office for a while and I don't have my phone. You can reach me through his if you're ready to talk.**

"Hey kid," I hear Amar say. His low, soft voice is so baffling to me right now because he is also one of the most intimidating people I know. "She'll be fine."

"I know." I nod, apparently unconvincingly.

"You're both going to be fine. Together."

"How do you know that?"

"I've known that kid since the day she was born. Did you know that? Reynolds and I went to the hospital as soon as Andrew would let us. I was the third person to hold her." He looks away wistfully, his memories taking him back to a different time. "I've watched her go through a lot. Change a lot. She's almost…like she used to be, when you're around her."

"Used to be?"

"Before. Before her… parents…" He doesn't finish his sentence, because he knows he doesn't need to.

"What was it like? Her mom dying?"

Amar sighs, looking down at his shoes briefly before looking back up and starring at the wall. "It was the worst thing I've ever seen in my life."

I immediately put my head down at the thought of Tris suffering through that.

"Natalie was the best person I've ever known. Prior, Reynolds and I…we did some fucked up shit sometimes. Everyone's going to break the rules. But Natalie…not her." He shifts his weight like the words are bearing him down. "She was tough. But she was the nicest, most giving person I could ever imagine the world having." He pauses for a moment and I think he's done, until I hear him again.

"I loved her." He says it softly. "I loved her as a friend, like a sister. I never said those words to her. I guess we just all thought they were understood."

I realize now that Jeanine Matthews barging into the unit and trying to take control isn't just a difficult path for Tris. Whatever undesirable information Tris has on her probably also has to do with Amar and Reynolds. And I'm assuming, her father, too. From the look on Amar's face, I can tell that this is something bigger than I expected, and it's causing painful memories for him, too.

I wonder how Reynolds is doing upstairs, facing off with Jeanine. And then again, I wonder how Tris is, what she's doing, where she's at, and how she's handling things. I need to talk to her, to finally tell her that I love her, because unlike what Amar said, nothing is just understood.

* * *

TRIS

When I stormed out of the precinct, I didn't really know where I was going. I just needed to get out of there. Feeling the words fly out of my mouth, and allowing them to, was the most disgusting feeling I have ever felt. I hate that person I slipped into after my dad died. I hate her. And because of Jeanine Matthew's stupid ass, I had to give Four a glimpse of that person. I wouldn't be surprised if he hated me forever after this. He's probably already feeling disgusted about our relationship.

Jeanine has known for a long time that I know her deepest, darkest secrets. I know things about her that no one should know. Amar, Reynolds, and I have carried these secrets with us since my dad died, and while the knowledge eats at us, there is an understanding that this information remains private until we know exactly what to do with it.

Which means that if I explain this, explain everything to Four, I'll have to tell him about that, too. If I don't, what kind of girlfriend would I be? Continuing to keep secrets from my boyfriend isn't exactly high on the trust scale. I'm sure he won't be happy if I tell him I can't share it. But at the same time, it hurts so much to talk about it that I don't think I can push the words out of my mouth and past my lips.

I find myself back at my apartment, changing into running clothes before I head to the most familiar place in times like these-Uriah's. I know he's off, so I pound on his door until he answers, his face heavy with sleep. "I need to run," is all I can spit out. He opens the door wordlessly for me to enter as he turns around, spending only a brief minute in his bedroom.

"Talk or quiet?" he asks as he returns, dressed and ready.

"Quiet, for now."

He nods and we take off down the sidewalk, our feet hitting the concrete together. It's been a while since we've gone back to our old routine, but there was a time that Uriah and I did this a few times a week. We'd show up at each other's houses, dragging the other person outside whether they wanted to right then or not. But neither of us would deny the other of the supported they needed, especially because we both needed support for the same reason.

I hear his heavy breathing next to me and I know he hasn't been able to run as much as I have lately, so I slow my pace. "You ok?" I ask.

"Yeah. You're just…running…really…fucking fast." He lets the words escape between his breaths, so I slow further.

"Sorry."

I can barely see him nod, but we continue on, winding through streets and parking lots, down avenues we've never even walked on and neighborhoods we rarely visit. And then eventually, my legs start to give out and I decide I also need a break. Uriah eases himself onto a bench nearby, relaxing his arms on the back of it. "So."

It's a statement, not a question. "What's going on?"

There it is. The inevitable question that I knew would come.

"He knows."

"Tris, can we back up a minute. That sentence is not coherent without background information. Like, who is _he_? And what does _he_ know?"

I sigh, almost wanting to laugh at him. "Jeanine came by. She made me…say it. What I've done."

Uriah sits in silence, letting me continue when I'm ready.

"Four heard everything."

I hear him suck in a quick breath because he knows the way I feel about what I've done in my past. For a long time I'd buried it, I'd hidden it away in a dark place that no one should ever visit. I know Uriah and Christina were worried about me when I was in my Eric-phase, but they weren't fully aware of what exactly I was doing when they weren't around. It wasn't until that dreadful night that I called Amar, crying and scared and finally full of realization of what I was doing to myself that everyone else became fully aware. I can still see the look on Amar's face, it had burned itself into me when he found me sitting against a random building downtown, after hours of driving around because I wasn't exactly sure where I was to be able to tell him where to find me. He had pulled over into a no-parking zone and gotten out of the car, and his eyes were filled with sadness and worry and behind that, disappointment.

Amar had lifted me up and guided me to the car where he put me in the passenger seat before getting back in himself. "What did you take?" he had asked me.

"I don't know," was all I could respond. Eric had given me some pills, and then a few hours later gave me some more with the promise that it would make the first ones 'better', but that I'd be fine. I'd taken them with only a moment's hesitation.

It wasn't until later, when I was stumbling around the club with Eric nowhere to be found, that I realized I had just did something really fucking stupid. And in my drug-fueled stupor, I realized that this wasn't the first time I'd been really fucking stupid and I needed to get out of there. The first person that I could think of was Amar; he was the only person I called. When I thought about who my dad would want to come get me, who my mom would trust the most at that moment, Amar was the face I saw.

"He's probably just scared, Tris. Worried or concerned," Uriah says softly.

I shake my head. "No way."

"How did we all feel? Did any of us hate you? Were we mad at you? Disgusted with you?"

I don't respond, but Uriah continues. "You need to have more faith in the people that love you. You always think your mistakes will make us hate you."

I remember that night, Amar took me back to his house and called Reynolds, who came and sat with me. They took turns watching me all night. Since I had no idea what pills I had taken, they didn't know what would happen if they'd left me alone. In the morning, when I woke up groggy and hungover with only a fuzzy memory of what had happened, I stumbled out of Amar's guest room and into a living room full of people I loved. Christina, Uriah, and Caleb were there, along with Amar and Reynolds. I remember shoving past them, not ready to talk to anyone about anything, because I just knew that they'd tell me how awful I was, how stupid I was. How they were so disappointed in me. I remember saying I needed coffee and shoving my way to the kitchen because I didn't want to cry in front of all of them.

I avoided going back out there, but it was Christina who finally called my name. "Tris… We love you." She said it so simply and without expectation in return, that it pulled me back into the room and allowed the tears to flow down my cheeks when I collapsed on the couch into her embrace.

This is different, though. Because my actions from years ago have made Four a target at work by a sex kitten who can't keep her hands off of him. And now he'll probably have to file a sexual harassment suit against her, which never ends pretty. He's also in hot water with Internal Affairs, all because I was once a moron. He didn't ask for this; he didn't even know what he was getting into.

"They weren't just mistakes! Look at where it's gotten me. Look where it's gotten him! It's affecting his job now!"

"It was a long time ago." Uriah is talking softly, to keep me calm, I know. "You need to talk to him. He'll understand."

I shake my head. "I can't talk to him."

Uriah gets up and stands across the bench, leaning down and putting his hands on my shoulders. "If anyone will understand, it's Four."

"Why would he—?" but Uriah cuts me off.

He shakes his head and releases my shoulders. "It's not my business to tell."

"Hmph." I cross my arms and lean back against the bench.

Uriah sits back down on the bench and rubs his face with his hands. "Alright, I'm just going to put this out there, and you're going to listen for once. You and Four are the strongest people I know. For as long as I can remember, the two of you have been family to me, just like Zeke and my mom. Four has been the best role model I could have asked for after my dad died. Every day, I want to be more like him, because he's so selfless and brave, but he's smart as fuck too. And over the years, he's been honest with me when I needed it and kind when I needed that too. And you, you're the same way. You've been through a lot and no one can ever deny that. But you're so selfless that you've always been there for me and you're such a nice person that you won't ever put yourself first. You're also the bravest person I've ever met because you've battled through some shitty hands you've been dealt. And you're smart. You're so smart you run your own business and it's fucking successful. But you are not always honest, Tris, because you aren't being honest with yourself about how great you are, and you aren't honest with yourself about how much everyone loves you."

When he's finally done talking, I'm speechless. There's nothing that I can refute because I know Uriah wouldn't throw those words out carelessly. He'd never lie to me and he'd never lie to Four. He's seen me at my darkest and stood by me through the brightest.

"I need to go home," is all I can muster, my voice full of emotion.

Uriah nods and we stand up and begin our run back.

* * *

I ran home with just as much energy as when I started. Uriah, I can't say the same for, as he clumsily collapsed against his front door when we were finished. I did an easy cool down walk to my apartment before entering, stripping down and taking a hot shower. I was already late to work for the night, but Christina was there, aware I was on a much-needed run with Uriah.

"I need to run with Uri," I had texted.

"I'll be there early." Her reply was quick and without question, which is what I needed at the moment. Christina knew that.

I make my way to the back door of the bar and dump my belongings in my office before locking it and heading to the front. I sweep my hands through my long blonde hair, preparing to pull it up in a messy bun, which makes things easier when I'm working.

"Hey, Chri-," I stop myself as I feel my jaw slack open.

Christina is not behind the bar. Four is.

I back up, surprised to see him smiling at a customer as he serves them a burger and fries.

"Hey," he replies, softly, tentatively.

"I... You... Where is—"

"I sent her home."

"Why?"

He moves towards me, but keeps space between us. "I wanted to be here."

"You can sit there like a customer." I'm not trying to be mean, but I don't know why he felt the need to send home my manager and work on this shitty day. Especially when he's not a fully knowledged bartender.

"I want to be here with you. Next to you. Moving around you. Close enough to feel the heat from your neck and pick up your scent when you move past me."

I stay silent, because the words hit me like a knife to the gut. How he can manage to find such sweet thoughts about me in his head, after he knows what a screw up I am, baffles me.

"Tris, I'm not upset with you."

"There are better words, I'm sure. Disgusted… disappointed...-"

"Stop." How he always speaks so calmly, I will never understand. His eyes are pleading, his hands a little tense, but his voice is soft and calm and patient.

I can't look at him. "You deserve better," I say as I turn my head away.

"I don't even deserve you."

I look up at him and I can suddenly see what else is in his eyes. They aren't pleading. They're afraid.

"We both have secrets we haven't shared, Tris," he says as he slips my hands into is. "But I want to share everything with you; the good stuff and the bad. Our accomplishments and our downfalls."

"Hey!" I hear from behind him and I peer around his muscular shoulders to see an annoyed customer. "Can I get some service over here?"

"Hmph," Four grunts. "I got it." He turns away from me, leaving me frozen in my spot, my legs like lead. He serves the customer a couple beers and I watch the man return back to the table of his buddies.

I'm still frozen as Four returns to me, walking slowly as if he's approaching something breakable, and I'm not sure if it's me or the current situation he's afraid will shatter.

"What did you think, when you heard what I said?" I need to know the thoughts that entered his head, how he pictured me. "Honestly."

He looks straight at me, without hesitation. "I was surprised."

"And?"

"And I was upset, but only because I had to hear you say it like that, because you were forced and you were forced because of me. No one should ever force you to share what you aren't ready for."

"Are you ready to share your secrets?"

"No, I may never be. But I want to, with you."

I feel a deep breath enter me and I realize that my body had been tense and uninviting. Four steps closer to me, finding my hands again.

"I'm glad you're here," is all I can muster, because my heart is still beating rapidly and I just can't get myself to speak the words I need to say so desperately to him.

So, I don't speak. I don't say anything else. I just reach up to him and pull his head to mine, closing the gap between us in the process. I kiss him hard, passionately, pouring all the words I should say into the kiss and I don't care when I hear someone across the bar hollering at us. I crush myself against him and I can feel his arms around me, holding me just as close as I want to be. When I finally break away, I look into his eyes while I try to catch my breath.

"Tobias," I whisper.

He swallows and nods, still searching my eyes to read my thoughts.

"I'm in love with you."

"I love you." Our words come out at the exact same time.

We stare at each other for a moment, our eyes not leaving the other's. It's like one of those moments you read about in books where everything around the characters fades away and it's only them. Our eyes are locked and our breaths are matching, deep and heavy. We stay like that, not needing to share any words until we hear a deep voice on the other side of the bar, just a couple feet away.

"We need to talk."

We don't pull away, just turn towards Reynolds, who's leaning on his forearms on the bar. His eyebrows are raised and he's looking at us intently.

"This is big."

"What is?"

"Jeanine." Reynolds looks serious. His face is rarely plastered with a smile, which makes them extremely meaningful when you see them. But today, I can tell smiles are nowhere near working their way onto his face.

"My house, tomorrow morning."

Four nods, speechless. He simply agrees to what his boss is telling him and trusts his instincts are worth following. And they are, I know that for a fact.

"Eight?" I ask.

He nods. "Now serve me a beer. I'm just visiting."

I swallow and nod. Reynolds rarely feels the need to hide anything he's done or any of his actions, even the things he does that are borderline questionable. This makes me slightly nervous.

He sits and begins to sip the beer Four has slid in front of him. I glance over at Four, noticing that he has learned some tricks of being a bartender that I hadn't taught him. "How'd you remember what beer he likes?" I ask curiously.

"I like to watch you when you're behind the bar." He gives me a sly smile from where he stands next to me.

"That sounds creepy."

"It would sound creepy if I weren't in love with you."

"No, it would sound creepy if _I_ weren't in love with _you,_ too."

He smiles at me, moving slightly closer, but I hear Reynolds' sharp voice instead of Four's soft one.

"Four, you stay with her tonight."

My eyes snap up to his. "What?" I'm not embarrassed or upset, or even worried about what Reynolds is thinking about us. But Reynolds has never told me what to do, never ordered me around, and never ordered a man to stay by my side. He must sense my discomfort, because he continues talking.

"Both of you. Don't leave each other alone. And don't talk about this at your apartment." It's very rare that Reynolds gets this concerned, and every time he has been, it's been for good cause.

Four nods and I can only find one word hidden in my throat, "Okay."

"I'll see you in the morning," he says and leaves the empty beer bottle on the bar as he walks away. It's only then that I see his pistol, holstered on his hip; the pistol that he always leaves at work and never carries home.


	13. Chapter 13

**Hi everyone! Sorry for the wait (again) but I appreciate all the reviews and follows while you wait! Eunice339 did a great job with the beta work for this and cleaned up lots of errors for me! I hope you enjoy it!**

 **I also wanted to respond to a few reviews or comments. I know some people have mentioned that Four should go to HR about Nita, and of course what she's doing is inappropriate, but going to HR isn't always as easy as it may seem, especially when you work in a political environment and I hope I've conveyed through the story that this environment is political.**

 **Also, someone asked about Caleb. He's mentioned a few times in memories or recollections, but I just couldn't find a way to tie him in the story. I tried, but he just didn't fit anywhere for me. And, since Tris and Uriah have such a strong, brother-sister type friendship, I felt like adding him in would be kind of dull or pointless if they weren't close.**

TOBIAS

When I help Tris close up the bar, I notice that she's rushing through things she would normally take great care in doing. She doesn't rotate out the bottles of beer like she usually does and she hurriedly sweeps the floor. She double checks the register still, but isn't concerned when it's a dollar off when both of us count.

"I just want to get home," she announces flatly, like she's just giving me a simple explanation. I don't hear stress or fear or worry, even though I know it's there.

"Me, too," I say, nudging her flirtatiously and raising my eyebrows, which causes her to laugh. "I missed you all day," I add. Because I did miss her, especially when she wasn't responding back to my texts and I didn't know where she was.

"I bet I missed you more," she responds back. She throws the money into the safe, locking it and then her office door. My arm slips around her as we move down the hall and I pull her towards the front of the bar.

"I think we should take a cab."

"Do you?" I know what she's asking. She's asking if I'm really so worried that we can't walk the few blocks back to her apartment safely.

I am worried, especially because of Reynolds's concern. I've seen him walk into dangerous situations without hesitating; I've seen him risk his life for a large number of people without even thinking twice. I don't want her to know that I'm worried, so I reach down and grab her ass while planting a kiss on her head. "We'll get home and into bed a lot faster if we do." She giggles and quickly pulls me to the front of the bar where we exit and hail a cab.

I don't waste any time getting my hands on Tris when we get inside her apartment. Despite the impending situation, hearing Tris's confessions earlier in the day and having her run from the precinct thinking I hated her was heart wrenching. "I want to hear you say it again." I whisper into her ear, taking in her scent as I talk to her.

"Say what?" she says in between planting kisses on my neck.

"That you love me."

"I love you, you stupid fucking moron." I can feel her lips curl into a smile where they rest on my jaw.

"You sure have a way with words, babe."

She pulls me back with her, through the apartment. "When I'm with you, I can't help it." She reaches for my shirt and pulls it up over my head, and I can feel her fingers outlining my chest before crawling up my back. I tug at the hem of her shirt, sliding her out of it.

We reach a wall and I stop and gently push her against it. "I love you, Tris. I'm _in love_ with you." I tangle my hands in her hair as I kiss her, then find one hand making its way to her jeans, working on the button.

"I want to hear that every day," she moans back as my lips land on her collarbone. I push her jeans down her legs and she steps out of them, kicking them to the side and pushing me back so she can work on my pants while she backs me into her room.

My pants fall to my ankles. I step out of them and lift her hips slightly so I can ease us both onto her bed. I pepper kisses down her abdomen as I slip the words out in between. "I'm going to tell you…. every day…. for a very long time."

Her back arches as I slip the rest of her clothing off. Then she rolls on top of me, sliding down to peel off my boxers before coming back to rest on my hips. My hands slide over her curves and she pulls me up to sit, facing her. I reach down and cup her ass, urging her up so she can ease down onto me. "I want to get lost in this moment with you," I whisper into her neck.

I hear her sigh as she lowers herself down on me. "I already am."

* * *

I wake up the next morning tangled in Tris' sheets, hearing the sound of her light breathing. Almost as if she can read my thoughts, she rolls closer to me, her hand searching me out against the cool sheets. I circle her waist with my arm and pull her to me. Her hand finds mine as she rests her arm over mine, intertwining our fingers.

"I love you," she whispers. By now we've said it countless times since it spilled out of our mouths last night at Dauntless, but each time is just as meaningful as the last.

I smile and place my lips on the back of her neck. "I could wake up to that every day."

Her hand reaches back, running through my hair. "You will," she promises.

"Every day?" I question her.

"We're not leaving each other until this is worked out." My mind wanders to where her thoughts are, which is in a darker place than mine just were. I know that last night we were avoiding the topic of our current situation, because we had to and because we wanted to. This meeting with Reynolds has us both worried, but I can tell Tris is more concerned than I am. She's known Reynolds for much longer than I have, and she can read his mannerisms. There's got to be more she's not telling me, but I trust her judgment and her instincts.

"I wouldn't dare defy Reynolds," I say with a chuckle, thinking of his order last night.

She turns to look into my eyes, her arm dropping from my head slightly. "I wouldn't dare let you sleep alone."

I plant a kiss on her cheek. "Good."

I don't want to roll away from her, but I can tell by the way she hoists herself up on her elbow, looking for her phone to check the time, that it's time for us to get up. "You'll be back tonight, right?" she asks me.

"You know, my bed is bigger."

"We don't sleep very far from each other." She gestures down to our bodies, which are entwined.

"I was talking about other activities that involve our bodies."

She smiles, turning to wind her arms around my waist and press her cheek to my chest. "I like to be close to you for that, too." She reaches to plant a kiss on my throat before rolling back over, and then I hear her feet hit the floor and walk off to the bathroom.

* * *

I've never been to Reynolds's house. He lives in a townhouse on the eastside of the city, away from the business that dominates so much of his life. Tris has spent a lot of time here though, during her childhood and even now. She tells me in her car on the drive over that she has spent many holidays with Amar and Reynolds here since her parents passed. The three of them, each lonely and full of loss, have become an abnormal but reliable family.

Reynolds's wife left him years ago, Tris adds, when she was just a kid. "I remember Nancy, but only a little. She would come over to visit with my mom sometimes," she says as she heads down the streets of Chicago. "But she was always complaining. She complained about how much Reynolds and my dad worked, how much they were gone, how they always seemed to be in danger."

"And your mom?" I ask her tentatively. We've talked a bit about Tris's parents, but only in a positive light. We've never talked about the tough situations they had to face as a family, or how stressful her dad's job was on all of them. Part of me doesn't want to talk about it, because I know my job makes Tris nervous too.

"My mom knew what my dad's job was when she married him. She fully supported him. Sometimes she might not have agreed with what he did, but she knew he always had the best intentions." Tris glances over at me and takes my hand. "My mom would have never pushed my dad aside because his job was dangerous. She would have never done to him what I did to you at first."

I release her hand and instead place it on the back of her head, rubbing her hair softly. "Stop."

"I was stupid."

"I wasn't exactly professing my feelings either."

"Shut up." She swats at me playfully. "I enjoyed our friendship."

"I've enjoyed it more since it became more than friendship," I say back. "But, I'd enjoy anything with you."

"Even when we're fighting? Even when I ran out of the precinct unable to look you in the eye?"

I shake my head and chuckle. "No… That I did not enjoy. But I did enjoy making up."

She blushes, and I can see it from the passenger seat. "I did, too," she almost whispers. She's quiet for a few moments before she begins talking again. "If this never happened, do you think we'd still be such good friends?"

"No." I feel her glance over at me quickly before turning back to the road. "I wouldn't have been able to be that close to you and just be your friend for too much longer."

She smiles. "Something would have happened eventually…probably the next time I got drunk."

"I do recall that you are very hands on when you've been drinking." I grin, thinking back to all of the times that she'd sit close to me, letting her hands dance along my leg or graze through my hair. We were only friends then, but there's always been a physical aspect to whatever relationship we've had.

The thing about Tris that's different from most girls is the physical attention she gives me is always there. I think there's rarely a moment when we're together that we aren't touching each other in one way or another, but usually it's a touch that's subtle and comforting, a reminder that the other person is near. Like when we're watching TV and lying apart, she'll tuck her feet under my thigh to keep them warm. Or when I feel her hands lightly brush against my back when she walks past me. And when we sit together at a restaurant or at Dauntless or anywhere really, her fingertips will graze my arm or my neck. Her touch is comforting and casual, as if our bodies should be connected at all times.

Just as I'm thinking about her touch, I feel her hand on my leg as she turns the steering wheel to pull into the driveway of a slender blue townhouse. "This is it." She stops, pausing her words, and faces me. "Tobias, this is a big deal – Reynolds making us meet him here. I just want you to know that."

I nod tentatively, wishing we could go back to the conversation we were just having a moment ago about touching bodies and more, but this meeting is important.

I follow her up the sidewalk and am slightly surprised when she doesn't knock, but instead pulls out a key and unlocks the door as if it's her own home. "I've had it since I was 15," she explains, referring to the key with a shrug and a casual look, already knowing I would ask later.

"Reynolds?!" she calls his name before entering, snaking her way over to the kitchen where we hear shuffling.

My eyes take in the sight. Reynolds is standing at the back door, peaking out the window, while Amar is sweeping the room for bugs. He holds up one finger, nodding at Amar to indicate that they're almost done.

We stand quietly for a few moments and I'm worried that I'm the only one that's tense. When Amar finishes he heads over to a black briefcase sitting in the corner that I hadn't noticed before, sliding his equipment into it and locking it shut.

"All clear," he says, crossing his arms. "I've checked every room."

"You're worried about being bugged?" My voice is probably louder than it should be because I'm genuinely shocked that this is something that he sees as a possibility. Reynolds is never paranoid, never worried, and he usually has a dead-on gut instinct.

"We can't trust Jeanine Matthews," he says in his no-nonsense voice. "She's got people everywhere."

Tris drops herself into a kitchen chair and kicks one out for me. "What's the deal?"

Reynolds finds his way into another chair and Amar follows. "I'm going to put all of this out in the open, and frankly, I don't give a shit what secrets you two are keeping from each other or what you haven't told each other. We don't have time for games right now and I'm going to be fucking blunt. If you two can't handle that, then you need to go." His words are sharp, to the point. This is the Reynolds I see every day at work; he's not holding back.

I glance at Tris and she nods at me. "We're good," I say with a nod.

"All right then. I found out that Nita was placed in our unit as a mole. She's supposed to report any dirt she can find."

"Dirt on who?" I ask.

"Us." Reynolds nods his head at Tris and Amar. "Mostly us, and the unit."

"Who's she reporting to?"

"Four, I'm not the suspect here. Stop fucking interrogating me and just shut up."

I look down. "Sorry." I guess I don't have much patience in finding out the truth now that we're here.

"Wait." It's Tris who interrupts this time. "We need to back up. Four doesn't know everything about Jeanine."

"He doesn't need to," Reynolds responds flatly.

She looks at him evenly, crossing her arms. "You said no secrets…everything on the table."

He pauses. I've rarely seen anyone argue with Reynolds. Usually, when there are disagreements or different points of view at work, Amar is the one to talk to him about it. But Tris doesn't hesitate to tell him how she feels, and she's making him think twice.

"All right. Go for it, kid." He leans back in the chair, as if letting her take the stage.

Tris turns to me, and I can see the light dull in her eyes as she prepares to detach herself from the situation. "Before Jeanine was with Internal Affairs, she ran the Drug Unit, and my dad and Amar overheard some things… Jeanine only got to be sergeant because she was sleeping with the mayor. He was able to coerce – threaten – the Chief of Police to promote her and give her the Drug Unit."

My mouth drops. I'm not surprised that getting to the top of the CPD is political; everyone knows it is. But I am surprised at how easily it can be manipulated and that people can be compelled into giving high-ranking jobs to undeserving people; that they can put people's lives and the safety of the officers at risk.

"Jeanine wasn't respected because no one believed she deserved the promotion. There were a lot more deserving officers with more experience, and even her own unit questioned her. So, she went dirty."

" _'Dirty?'_ " This word bothers me, because I know that we have all done some questionable shit, and I don't even want to know what Reynolds and Amar have done. Those secrets don't need to be out on the table.

"We all do shit we shouldn't do, shit that stays off the books. I'm the first to admit it and I'll be the first person to break the rules during our next case. But we're not talking about that kind of dirty shit." Reynolds leans his left elbow on the arm of his chair and raises his eyebrows. "You got that?"

I swallow then nod, and he continues. "Jeanine was working with guys she couldn't control. She was involved with the leader of the 2-Lords." I'm familiar with the 2-Lords; every officer in Chicago is. They're the most prominent and powerful gang in the south side. "She thought she was running the show, but she was dead wrong. She was in deep with him. He was giving her information, and in exchange she wasn't picking him, or any other 2-Lord up for anything. They were untouchable in Chicago." I see Tris shake her head at the memory, trying to rid it from her thoughts. "He was selling and trading weapons and drugs, and no one could do anything about it. But then Intelligence got a case, and it took us back to the 2-Lords."

"Sergeant Prior couldn't be forced down, could he?" I ask, already knowing what happens next, not wanting them to have to say it. "So, they killed him?"

Tris runs her hand through her hair, looking down at her lap, and I can see her biting her lip to keep the tears from falling. "Of course they did," she whispers, and I reach out to put a comforting hand on her knee. "And Jeanine did nothing. In fact, she helped them cover all their shit up. The entire gang was there to threaten the city of Chicago right alongside her."

"So, you've known this all these years?" I ask, baffled that the closest people to Andrew Prior know how he was murdered, but it's still a secret - knowledge to only them.

Tris gets up and starts pacing the kitchen, but Amar keeps me grounded with a hand on my shoulder. "We've been waiting. There was really nothing we could have done, no one who would have listened. It was a dirty fucking system then," he scoffs in disgust. "All the way to the top."

"How'd you find this out?"

"We knew something was going on, just couldn't figure out what. We used to have a really good tech guy, way ahead of the times. He could tap any device, hack into any system." Amar smiles and almost laughs at the thought. "Man, he was a good guy."

I don't want to ask what happened to him.

"Remember, his wife used to bake those awesome fucking cheesecakes?" Tris says from behind me, a slight laughter in her voice. I turn to her and she's chewing her bottom lip while balancing on one leg; the other foot resting on her calf as her back is leaning up against the counter behind her. "She knew I loved them so she brought me a bunch after my dad's funeral, like, one a week."

"Then one day he showed up to work, packed his shit up and left. I got a letter in the mail two weeks later with an explanation. He had four kids, you know. He had to take care of his family. He couldn't risk their safety." Reynolds looks almost sad, which is an emotion I almost thought he was incapable of feeling. But, hey, a lot of things have been surprising me about Reynolds lately, so I probably shouldn't be making any predictions right now.

Reynolds goes on to tell me about all of the information the tech guy had found, how much evidence they had gathered on Jeanine. They've had to bide their time though, until a new mayor was elected, to have a shot at doing anything worthwhile. Otherwise, all the evidence and work they'd done would have disappeared or been shoved under a rug, and Andrew's death would never have been solved. Jeanine had always been suspicious of them, but after threatening the tech, they decided she was too close and they should back off for a while.

"You've been collecting evidence against her this whole time?" My question is directed at Amar and Reynolds, but Tris answers, returning back to the chair she began in.

"All three of us."

"Miss Rule Number One' has been doing police work?" I say it half teasingly, half shocked.

She swats at my arm and I see a genuine smile on her face before she turns serious again. "I still don't get how all this comes into play now, with Nita and Four and everything else," she says, pulling one of her feet onto her lap.

"Nita was planted as a mole. She was supposed to find information about the unit, about us, for Jeanine. Anything she could use against us for blackmail. She was hoping that Nita would hook up with Four since he was the newest member of the unit, and that he'd slip up or be careless with what he told her," Amar continues tentatively. "When you two got together, she inserted Nita into the unit right away, hoping to pull Four away from you. And… she wanted to hurt you, Tris. She must have seen it as an added bonus."

"How'd you find all this out?" she asks, her voice almost demanding.

"I can't tell you that, for your own sake."

"What was the bigger priority? Nita getting info, or me getting hurt?"

"She said they were equal." Reynolds comes to stand in front of Tris, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Kid, I promise. She's not going to get away with this shit this time. We're going to fucking nail her."

Tris nods. "Fuck yeah, we are." She glances at all three of us, and then settles her gaze back on Reynolds. "How?"

* * *

 **Also, not-so-funny story - I save all my writing on a flash drive... and... suddenly I can't open some files. I was able to find most of my stories in e-mail or other places, but there is one that is totally lost and it just keeps saying the file is "corrupt". I'm so heartbroken! If anyone is tech savvy and can help me out, please PM me! I would forever be grateful and owe you massively. Thanks!**


	14. Chapter 14

TRIS

For the past three years I've been holding in secrets that I could only share with the two older men in this room. I couldn't spill the emotions of it all to my best friend or to anyone I was close with. That has been really fucking hard.

But now, that's part of the reason it feels so good to be able to spill everything to Four, to finally put everything out in the open. I know that the next time I explode over this stuff, Four will be there alongside me, giving me whatever I need to get by.

"I don't want you two involved." Reynolds is giving me his no-nonsense attitude and he glances over at Four briefly before turning his eyes back to me. "We've got our shit together. We're going straight to the mayor."

"That's not fair. This is a part of me, too!"

"Yeah? And if this whole thing goes south, do you think I want the two of you going down with us?" His expression softens, turning into the fatherly one that has comforted me over the years. "Four has a good career ahead of him. He's only going up. You want to risk ruining that?"

I stand up, stomping my foot and realize how immature I probably look. "Then leave him out, but I want to do this."

"No." Four's voice is stern but soft. "You're in, I'm in."

"Nobody's fucking 'in'!" Amar is the one to raise his voice this time, which is surprising because he usually speaks so softly. "If you think your father would want us risking your safety to do this – you're wrong. We called you here so that you would be aware, so you two could prepare yourselves. That's what Andrew would have wanted." He gets up and moves to the window, looking out it, deep in thought. I watch him rub his hand on his forehead before he continues. "I started thinking about you…about when you were a baby." I can already see his eyes, the distant look they're getting. "You were just this little thing of perfection. We watched you grow, you know, from that very first day, until now. And I am so damn proud that I played a part in the person you've become."

He turns to me now; his eyes staring at mine intently, a deeper purpose behind them. "You've been through a lot of shit already, kid, and you've pulled through it all. I would never let you put yourself in the line of fire again."

"I want to… For him." I say it softly, hoping he feels the desperation in my heart.

"Sacrificing yourself won't bring him back. The only thing you can do is keep on living," Reynolds says in a softer voice than we usually hear out of him.

Four takes my hand, slipping it under his. He doesn't speak; he just offers me his loving, hopeful eyes. I can't deny the way that they make me feel, their silent plea to make the right decision. His lips curve up a little, giving me a smile of support, and I pull my gaze away to look at Amar and Reynolds. _Are they right? Would my dad be upset if I inserted myself into a situation I may not get back from?_ Of course, he would. I know it and they know it. And honestly, he'd also be really pissed at them if they let me put myself in that situation. Even years after his death, they're upholding the promises they made to him, spoken or unspoken.

"What do you want from us then?" I finally relent, silently admitting that I'll stay back.

"Amar is going to come by and sweep your apartments. I want you two together, _all of the time_. When you're at work, that's the only time you're apart. Tris, you need to have someone working the door every night, or at least at the bar. Uriah, Zeke, Four, Will... even Tori. I don't care who, as long as they're one of us."

I nod, listening intently to all of his directions, taking in all of the details he's telling me.

"You are _never_ in that bar alone, Tris. You got that? Other than that, we act normal."

"'Normal'?" Four almost laughs next to me, running a hand over the back of his head. "Yeah… Normal."

"We'll be fine," I say as I slide a hand over to his knee. I want to make a comment about how we can spend the time distracting each other, but I don't dare do that in front of these two father figures sitting with us. It would be like doing that in front of my own father. _Barf._

Four's hand covers mine. "We will be."

* * *

When we leave Reynolds's house a few hours later, I'm exhausted. Mentally, the entire day has been draining, even though it's still early. After they convinced me not to be directly involved in taking down Jeanine, we reviewed everything we knew about her, sharing all the dirt we had each gathered over the years. I've met quite a few officers in various units since Dauntless opened, so I gave them the names of the guys I'd chatted with and the small, yet seemingly insignificant details they'd shared with me. Men can be so clueless.

Four can see the exhaustion in my face, so he offers to drive us back to my apartment, and I hand over the keys more than willingly. He backs out of the driveway and begins winding through the streets of our city, leading us back to my apartment.

"So… Looks like we're going to be spending quite a bit of time together now," he says, and I can hear the smile in his words.

My eyes are closed as I lean against the headrest, but I don't need to open them to tease him. "Are you complaining, Tobias Eaton?"

He laughs. "No way. It was a surprising order to get from my boss, though. To shack up with his pseudo-daughter."

It is ironic, and I tell him so. "I was actually kind of happy to hear that though. I think we have a lot to talk about…" I let the sentence trail because I know just as well as he does that there is a lot to talk about, a lot of secrets we need to share.

"Yes, there will be some talking happening. But also, some mumbling and moaning." He gives me a half smirk from the corner of his eye.

"And some cooking. Your chicken parm is killer." My hand wanders over to his knee where it often rests so casually.

"I was thinking, maybe this could be a little trial run?" He avoids looking at me as I open my eyes to gauge what he's saying.

"For?"

"For making it a more permanent situation that takes place when it is not being ordered by my boss."

I pause. I really suck at reading between the lines when it comes to men and I don't want to assume something that I shouldn't be assuming. I would look like a total moron in addition to feeling like one. And, what if his feelings aren't as deep as mine? Then I would also look like a moron while he's trying to back off.

"Tris, I'm asking if maybe we can think about, or talk about, living together." He says it quickly, letting out a long breath after it, like he was holding it.

"Yeah?" is all I can muster up, because I'm semi-speechless.

His smile becomes more relaxed at my response. "We've been together for a while, right?"

"Four months," I reply, knowing that he already knows the exact amount because that's the type of person he is.

"My apartment lease is up in eight weeks. There's really no where else I'd rather be than with you."

He says it so casually, like it's not one of the most meaningful things anyone has ever told me. Like his words didn't just reach right into my chest and warm up the heart that's beating there.

I feel his hand cover mine. "I like thinking about that…and I definitely like talking about it, too," I say with a smile.

"Yeah? Do I get a grade when all of this is done?" he asks me jokingly.

I laugh. "Once we make it through this initiation." I squeeze his fingers in excitement.

"Well, I guess I can now say," he eases the car to a stop in a parking space in front of my building, "that we're home." He leans over and plants a soft kiss on my lips before hopping out of the car. I can't help but feel warmth and security as he strides over to open up the car door for me, grabbing my hand as we walk together, and then as he uses my key to unlock the building door.

TOBIAS

Tris and I lounged on the couch when we returned, both drifting off to sleep to the lull of the TV quite easily. The day had been draining for both of us, and if we're going to address any of the issues at hand, we're going to have to be rested…and fed. I am fucking starving. Tris will be too. I know this because she barely ate after Reynolds left Dauntless last night and she only snacked a little this morning. I've seen her speed eat during nights at the bar, always hungry after a busy night. She's going to be hungry now.

I pull out my phone and browse the nearby restaurants that offer delivery, settling on a Chinese restaurant with five star reviews on a local website. Chinese is the one food Tris and I haven't eaten together. I could tell you what she likes on her pizza, how she takes a burger, and that she hates any seafood. She loves French dressing on her salads and prefers chicken to steak every time.

But for Chinese food, I'm stumped. I order a few safe options, like sweet and sour chicken and fried rice. _Everyone eats those things, right?_ Then I get a few of my favorites that I think she'll go for since she likes flavor and spicy food, too. I know I've selected way too much food, but I want her to be satisfied. And if we're going to have to be holed up here, at least we'll have plenty of leftovers.

As I wait for our food, I look over at her, lying on the deep couch, her arms tucked close around her sides. She stirs a bit and then I see her reaching out next to her to find me, her hands searching for me in the emptiness. I ease myself next to her again and she curls up into my chest before her eyes flutter open.

"Where were you?" she mumbles, her eyes sliding closed again.

"I only got up a little while ago." I rub her back, my hand lightly grazing her up and down. "I ordered dinner."

"Thank God. I'm starving." I feel her bury her face into my neck and I wrap my arm around her a little tighter.

"I knew you would be." I chuckle, recalling my expectations of when she woke up. I enjoy the fact that I know her so well.

She slips her arms up around my neck. "So far, the trial run is going good."

"I agree," I say, just as the doorbell rings. I ease myself off of the couch to get the door while Tris rolls and lazily stretches her arms out above her head, arching her back as she does so. If there weren't someone waiting at the door with our food, I'd stare at her a little longer.

After paying, I shut the door and turn back to the apartment. Tris is already walking into the kitchen, moving to the fridge to grab each of us a beer. She places them on her small table as I unload the bags.

'Fuck, Four! How much did you order?!" Her eyes widen at the amount of food that's set out.

I shrug. "I wanted to make sure I got something that you would eat. So, I gave you options." I open the containers, the aromas escaping from each one.

She smiles at me and puts her head down. "You're too good to me." I know what's coming next. Guilt. "I never should have kept those things from you."

"Stop." I say it quickly, so she cannot argue with me. "We just weren't ready to talk about it then."

"Are we ready now?" she says as she raises her eyes to meet mine. "Because I need to."

I sigh. I'm not ready. I don't really know if I will ever be ready, but I can't keep waiting and she deserves to know what I need to say. And I know Tris needs to do this, so we'll do it together.

"What do you want to talk about?" I finally get out.

"Eric. The drugs. The stupid things I did."

"I already talked to Amar… And he told me…some stuff."

"I'm not an addict, Tobias."

My eyes snap up at her in confusion. "I never thought that, Tris. I know you aren't, because I know you."

She softens a little, her shoulders sinking a bit, revealing how tense they were. "When my mom died, I had a lot of people around me. I had my dad and Caleb. We all got through it together. But when my dad died… Caleb was gone and everyone else felt just as shitty as I did. Reynolds and Amar... I couldn't ask them for anything."

Instead of sitting across the table from her, I pull my chair next to hers, but continue to pick at the containers in front of me. "You're never going to feel that way again. Whatever happens, I'll always be here."

She smiles and then regretfully says, "That's kind of why I always had 'rule number one'. What if you are the next one to leave?"

I'm taken back by the comment, by the bluntness of it, even though I know it's a possible reality. I know that I could be the next one to be sucked out of her life.

"It's hypothetical. Don't answer that."

I nod in response.

"Anyways, I was really sick of being that girl whose parents died, too. It was in the papers and on the news and everywhere I went. But then I started hanging out with Eric..." She lets her voice trail for a moment before continuing. "Eric and his friends didn't care that my parents were dead or that I hated my life or anything like that. It was an escape. And at first, I just drank. A lot. I went to parties he invited me to or met him out at the bars." She puts a hand on her forehead for a moment, as if to check and see if she's ok to go on. "I fucking slept with him," she whispers.

I try to play the comment off like it doesn't bother me, but it does sicken me to think of another man with his hands on her, their bodies close, his… _Ugh, I've got to stop that train of thought._ "I figured that, from when he was at Dauntless." I try to sound casual, so I rub her back softly. "It's ok, Tris."

She breathes out, then keeps going. "I knew Eric did some drugs, but I didn't know everything. So, a couple times when the alcohol didn't numb me enough and they offered me some shit, I finally said yes." She stabs a piece of chicken from a container near her.

"It makes you forget for a while that your heart is broken. You know? It makes you forget all the bad shit and you're really, really happy." She takes a bite of chicken, but I can tell she's only eating to delay her continued confession.

She swallows and her voice is quiet. "Then when it's over, you just remember everything that made you do it in the first place, but a million times worse."

I look over at her and I see the tears spilling over her eyes. "God, I really fucking sucked back then," she says as she wipes her cheeks with the heel of her hand.

I reach over, pulling her onto my lap. "You could never suck, Tris Prior." I slip my arms around her waist, pulling her close, urging her to rest her head on my shoulder. "It's in the past." I make circles on her knee with my fingers. "You don't have to keep going if you don't want to. Amar told me about the night he picked you up."

She breathes in to gain her composure. "Did he tell you how for months afterwards, no one wanted to leave me alone? Hana even made me spend weekends at her house." She offers a disgusted laugh at herself. "I barely scraped by that semester, so I really had to get my shit together for my final year."

"I just want to ask you one thing."

She nods, meeting my gaze. "Anything."

"Do you ever feel tempted to do it again?"

She immediately shakes her head. "Oh, God, no. After all that, whenever I went to the bars or a party, if I saw anyone with weed or pills or anything, I would leave. A few times I threw up just from being so disgusted by the memories. Seeing the faces of the people who loved me, that day at Amar's house, was the biggest slap in the face I could have ever given anyone. They didn't deserve that."

I nod, rubbing my nose on her collarbone. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, Tris. I still think you're just as amazing as I did when I met you."

She smiles, kissing me lightly. "Promise me you'll never lie to me. If you're really disgusted, I'd want to hear it, and any time in the future."

"I could never be disgusted with you, Tris. Everything about you is beautiful."

"I just mean that I want you to be honest. Always."

"I will be."

She nods, acknowledging my agreement to her promise.

"Do you want to hear my secrets?" I ask, knowing that it's my turn to share something.

Tris puts an arm around my shoulders and leans in. "I would, but I would also really like to eat this food in front of us."

I laugh at her typical Tris answer. "That's my girl."

* * *

The following afternoon, Tris comes to the precinct on my lunch break, but this time she drags me out of the office while giving Reynolds a reassuring and silly wave. She smiles at Zeke, who I know is growing concerned, or at least suspicious, about our unusual activities. We're all trying to act as normal as possible, but Zeke knows me better than anyone.

Tris's giddy smile erases any worries from my mind as I watch her practically dance out of the precinct and onto the sidewalk. "What are you so happy about?" I ask as I pull her towards me with an arm and kiss the top of her head.

She smiles up at me, brushing her hand against my chin as she pulls me down to kiss her. "I am taking you to my favorite place in the city."

"Favorite? You've taken me to three 'favorite places' already. There was the Harold Washington Library, Maggie Daley Park, and… What was the other one?"

She sighs in frustration at my teasing. "Pizano's Pizzeria. But this is the last one. I promise."

My arm tightens around her shoulders and I inhale her scent. "I think it's cute that you love so many places, you can't pick just one." I see her smile beneath me. "So, where are we going today?"

She looks up at me. "Just wait." My arm slides down from around her and her hand slips into mine. "How's work so far?" she asks after a few moments of comfortable silence.

I know she's asking how my day is going, but is also asking if anything unusual has happened that's worth noting. "Just a normal day, normal cases. I caught up on a lot of paperwork."

She glances around us, and I know that she's being cautious. "I haven't talked to Reynolds."

"Me neither. Just about work."

"Will you be at Dauntless tonight? I only snuck away for lunch. I have to go back after we're done."

"Of course." I've been spending every evening there, eating dinner and usually having a couple beers. Most nights I don't stay up until closing, but I crash on the couch in her office until she's ready to go. Even though she urges me to go to her apartment, I can't stand the thought of her walking home alone or hailing a cab.

I can sense her excitement growing as she pulls me to a stop and faces me. "So, I know I have a lot of favorite places, but this one is really special. My mom took me here a lot as a kid. I've never been here with anyone other than my family."

"Are you sure you want to share this with me?" I'm moved, beyond moved, that she's ready to share this with me, but I can imagine how hard of a decision this had to have been.

I feel her hands squeeze mine. "Of course, I am. I'm in love with you and there is no one else I want here with me." She moves toward the door, pulling me with her by my hand. I look up, seeing a dark grey sign with white lettering and yellow detailing on the edges of the wood. 'Johanna's Gourmet Popcorn' it reads. I've never noticed this place, which is surprising considering how close it is to the place I work.

When the door shuts behind us, a bell jingles and a motherly looking woman comes out from behind the counter. Her gray hair is tied up at the back of her head and she wears an off-white apron over her red shirt. "Tris!" she exclaims. "It's been too long!" She moves out from around the counter to wrap her arms around her, which Tris returns. She then steps back, putting a hand on her hip as she eyes me up and down.

"Who is this handsome man you have here?" she says as she continues to glance at me, taking in my whole appearance.

"This is Four," Tris says, giggling like a teenager. "Four, this is Johanna."

"Four?" Johanna asks, raising one eyebrow. "What kind of name is that?"

"The kind you have when you're gorgeous and mysterious," Tris answers for me casually, knowing I don't really have an answer to give. I still haven't even told her why I go by the name Four, and yet she still refers to me by it, rarely using Tobias in public.

"Hmmm…" Johanna mumbles as she returns back behind the counter. "You've missed some new flavors, Tris. It's been a while since I've seen you."

Tris wanders closer to the counter. Clear plastic containers line the top, filled with a variety of popcorn, each section with a different flavor or color. I read the names of one, surprised and curious about most of them. There's the typical cheese, butter, and caramel, but the next few bins are unique flavors that I've never heard of before.

"Oh!" I hear Tris next to me, excitedly pointing at a bin. "Fettuccine! That's one of the best!"

I enjoy moments like this with Tris, watching her eyes light up and seeing the excitement in her step as she moves up onto her tiptoes. Being short, there are a lot of times she's missing the view. But I've always noticed that when something is really important to her, she puts the extra effort into getting onto her tiptoes, making herself as tall as she can to see what she's missing. "What's this one?" I point to a container of popcorn labeled 'Birthday Cake'.

"It tastes just like it!" Tris glances at Johanna. "Can we get a medium Fettuccine and a small Birthday Cake?"

Johanna offers me a sample, but I wave it off. Tris wants it anyways.

Tris turns to a long table behind us on the opposite wall. It's filled with plastic containers and different flavors of popcorn are in each one. "Four, which ones do you want?" Tris asks me as I see her pile two containers in her arm.

I chuckle. "Whatever you're getting is fine. I think you've picked out enough to last us a couple days."

She rolls her eyes at me. "This is our dinner, you know. So, select carefully."

"We have a new flavor, you're going to love it!" Johanna says proudly from behind us and we both turn to see her. "I just put it out a couple days ago. It's called 'Happy Hour', a mix of beer flavoring and pretzels." She spoons some out onto a napkin for us and when we both taste it, our eyes roll back.

"So…good…" I mumble with my mouth full.

Tris nods vigorously. "Amazing!"

We exchange glances and simultaneously say, "We'll take a large!"

TRIS

Popcorn bags and containers are lined up behind the bar as Christina has been sampling each one. While I've never taken Christina to Johanna's, she's certainly reaped the benefits of my many visits.

I went a lot as a child with my mom and Caleb. She would often limit us to just a small bag and only one flavor each. As I got older and started going without her, I rebelled. I bought as many flavors as I wanted from Johanna's ever-growing menu of creativity. Physically, going to Johanna's is a special thing for me. The familiar smells, the jingle of the doorbell, and the feel of the paper bags in my hand are sacred, personal feelings that remind me of my mother. It has always been something so intimate I never wanted to share it with anyone else until recently….until Four.

When I had initially pulled the bags out and put them on the cooler behind the bar, Christina squealed in delight. "It's been so long since you've gone there, I was wondering if she closed!"

"No way," I shook my head. "She'll be there forever."

Christina now slings her arm around my shoulders. "Four does bring some good things out in you," she sighs, tossing some Happy Hour popcorn into her mouth. "Oh my gosh! What is this?! It's _so_ good; it's like an orgasm in my mouth."

I laugh at her bluntness, but agree. "It is."

I pause before adding. "There's actually something else pretty good happening in my life." I look down at the bar, nervous about Christina's reaction to what I'm about to tell her.

She drops her arm from around me and playfully smacks my arm. "What are you keeping from me?!"

I can't help but feel a smile spread across my face. "I wasn't hiding it. It's just been a…more recent development."

She eyes me up and down curiously as she has to turn to a customer and take his order. Christina is not patient, so pouring his drink while waiting for me to continue is clearly eating at all of her patience. He opens a tab, so she takes his card and taps a few times on the register before tossing it on the counter and turning back to me.

"Spill."

"Four and I are talking about moving in together."

"I knew it was coming! You guys are together ALL the time! Especially lately…" She lets that last part trail, like there's more to it.

"We're just kind of trying it out, making sure things will work." I try to sound casual, like I'm not as excited as I truly feel.

"Whatever! You guys don't need to 'try' anything. I see how you look at each other. I'm sure everything you're 'trying' has worked out just fine – in e _very_ area." She raises her eyebrows at me as she says it and I throw a piece of popcorn at her.

"Shut up and be normal. I'm trying to tell you something without you acting like a crazy person." I already knew Christina would react this way, so I'm just giving her a hard time. She's the only person I've really ever opened up to about personal stuff, even if sometimes she makes it a bigger deal that I'd like.

"Ok. So, who asked who?" she says with a more serious face.

I have to somewhat adjust this story to not include the order from Reynolds to stay together, so I just make something simple up. "He did, I guess. We were just talking about how much time we'd been spending together. He said maybe we should spend some more together to see if…. living together… is something that could work."

"Where are you going? His place or yours?" She throws a piece of popcorn into her mouth while eyeing the other containers on the counter, trying to decide what her next bite will be.

"Well, mine."

"Isn't it kind of small?" She scrunches her nose. "I could never be that cramped with a man."

"Oh, shut it. It's fine. It's a lot bigger than your place now."

She nods as she realizes I'm making a valid point.

I continue. "Now it's your turn. Will?"

"Oh, yeah. About that…" I can tell she's trying to avoid the topic and the always-candid Christina rarely does that.

"You know, I will withhold all of the popcorn you are currently snacking on if you are not going to tell me the truth." I snatch one bag away as a threat.

"I…went out with him. On a real date." Her eyes avoid mine. "Twice."

"You've gone out with him twice and you didn't tell me at all?!" This time I'm the one overreacting.

"Well, you've been busy," she says, and again I can tell there's more to that statement.

I dodge the statement. "And you told Uriah?" I ask hopefully.

It's her turn to dodge. "I've been busy."

"Christina you can't avoid that forever! You need to be honest before it gets too hard, for you and for Will!"

"What? You and Will?" Uriah says standing right in front of us and I realize we didn't hear the door open. Will stands next to him, both in their uniforms, probably here to take their lunch breaks. Will's mouth has slightly dropped open and he's looking at Uriah, hoping to gauge his level of intensity.

"This is my fault," Will says, stepping forward and facing him. "I should have told you right away—"  
"Told me what?!" Uriah asks, his frustration starting to grow.

Christina and Will exchange a glance, and because I know Christina, I can see the stress wearing on her face. Her eyes are wide, but her jaw is slack. I can tell her breaths are fast and nervous and she can't pull her eyes away from Will.

"I've been seeing Christina."

Uriah looks between the two of them, clearly unsure of his reaction. He walks around Will with an uneasy look and comes to sit at the bar. "You knew?" he asks me.

"Only a little. And I told her that they needed to figure this out before they ran to tell you."

"Why is telling me such a big deal?" he asks, frustrated and probably also slightly upset. "It's not my business."

"Yes it is!" Christina says with emotion. "You're my friend and you're his partner and no one wants you to be upset! So we've gone out a couple times, on dates, and we really want to continue this, but we want you to be ok with it!" Her hands are flailing around as she speaks, trying to release her frustrations and get everything out that she needs to.

"I'm a little pissed you thought this would be such a big deal," Uriah says finally.

"Ugh, remember that time in high school?" I lean into him and whisper, maybe just a little too loudly. I can tell this from the daggers Christina shoots at me. "Yeah, that's why."

Uriah runs a hand over his head and scratches at the back of his neck. "I've got three ground rules. One, I don't want to hear about you two having sex. Two, if you break up, leave me the fuck out of it. And three, if you hurt her I'll have to kill you, Will. So, try not to do that."

Christina and Will stand shocked, but Uriah just shrugs at them and grabs a menu, even though he probably has it memorized.

"Great! That's settled!" I clap my hands, happy things have worked out. "Now, who wants popcorn?!"


	15. Chapter 15

**Sincerest apologies on how long this has taken to finish up. As a reader myself, I have no patience, so I don't like the large time frame between postings. Hope it's worth the wait!**

* * *

TOBIAS

About a week later, on the following Friday, I convince Tris that we need to go out on an actual date. We've done this sparingly over the time we've been dating, preferring mostly to spend time with our friends or at Dauntless. I don't mind either of those situations, but I would like to make sure we don't get too comfortable doing the same things all the time.

Tris is only unsure of this idea because she thinks it's too early to leave Christina with the new bartender, Susan, who's only been working a month under Tris's direction. She's technically done being trained, but Tris knows she's new to bartending and low on confidence. Christina overhears our conversation and decides I'm right, telling Tris she can handle it and that she'll make sure Shauna and Zeke are there, because Shauna still has her liquor license and can jump in when needed. I promise her I'll make Will and Uriah work the door, and she finally agrees. Although she's acting reluctant, I can tell she's secretly excited when I tell her it's a surprise.

"You're too good to me," she whispered from across the bar, but I waved her off.

I don't have anything fancy planned, but I've gotten us into one of the most underrated pizzerias in Chicago, Maggiano's. I didn't even have to think twice about taking Tris to a pizzeria over a steakhouse. I knew which one she'd prefer.

When I thought about how Tris had taken me to Johanna's popcorn, I realized that she had shared more than just popcorn with me, but also her memories. That night she'd told me about the many times her mom had taken her and Caleb there, and how Johanna had become more than just the friendly woman behind the counter to their family.

I realized there was something I needed to share with Tris, too. There's one place where I went as teenager to escape my father, and that was my part time job. Maggiano's typically didn't hire outside of their family, but Marco had a soft spot for me right from the get go. From the day I came in, looking for a part time job after school, Marco had looked at me thoughtfully. "I'll make an exception for you," he had said with his faint Italian accent. He'd never lived in Italy, but carried a slight accent because he was surrounded by family who spoke English laced with thick Italian. The restaurant is named for his grandfather, but Marco has everything to do with the way its run now.

I stop by my apartment after work to grab some more clothes and toiletries, since I've been staying at Tris's for longer than we'd anticipated. I take a quick shower and hoist the packed gym bag over my shoulder before hailing a cab to Dauntless. Even though she's taking the night off, I know without asking that that's where she'll be in the meantime.

When I arrive, I'm surprised that she's not behind the bar, double checking everything that Christina and Susan could possibly need prepared for the night. "She's acting like she's leaving her newborn baby with me," Christina mumbles. "Get her out of here."

I laugh at her frustrations, knowing that she's joking and very used to how particular Tris can be-and also how she worries about inconveniencing anyone else. She's asked me countless times if I would rather be staying at my apartment with her, even though her apartment is in a much more convenient location. But that's how she is, never wanting anyone else to be uncomfortable.

Christina nods towards the back, and I slip into the hallway to make my way to Tris's office. As I near it, I can hear the music playing, old school Van Morrison escaping from the room. I stop at the doorway to drink her in before greeting her, as I always relish the way she moves to music when she thinks no one is watching. Living with her has given me many more opportunities to observe this, but I don't think I could ever get enough.

She's standing in front of a mirror on the side wall, her hips swaying back and forth lightly as she digs in a make-up bag for something, then pulling it out and pausing her hips as she brings a pencil to her face. She rubs it along the top and bottom of her eye, and then resumes swaying her hips and adds a slight bob of her head to match it as she digs back through the bag.

I watch her swipe her finger along both of her eyelids before brushing some powder from a small case and applying it over her eyes. She does this with less precision than she used with the pencil, but in between each application I can see her mouth the lyrics and move her body again, and I can't bring myself to say anything.

"Make up, huh?" I finally say after swallowing my thoughts about the way she's moving.

She turns quickly, and smiles, allowing the smile to reach her eyes and soften it when she sees me. "It's a date, right?"

"A date with an irresistible woman who doesn't need make up," I insist. I move closer to her, my arms falling around her waist from behind and looking into the mirror with her. "You look gorgeous either way, but I love the confidence you radiate by not wearing any."

She blushes. "Feels like you love a lot more than that." She arches her back into me, and I know she's felt my erection from under my jeans. "That's not just from confidence."

"I was watching you dance," I confess. "The way you move is…mesmerizing."

Tris giggles. "That's so embarrassing! I can't believe you're always watching me like that!"

"How can I stop looking at something like that?" I say defensively. "Besides, I like that it's so private to you, but I get to see it."

She turns to face me, slipping her around my shoulders and placing her hands on the back of my neck. "I'll share anything with you, Four."

I kiss her, claiming her lips briefly before I spill about tonight. "Good, because I'm about to share something really important with you."

* * *

The cab drops us off at Maggiano's, and Tris admits she's never heard of the place we're about to enter. I lead her through the doorway and the hostess, who's knew, smiles at me. "I believe you're the one Marco is waiting for?"

I nod. I had called Marco to tell him I was coming by, to make sure we could get a certain table, at a certain time, and he had been more than excited to hear that I was coming with a woman. "I knew you weren't always hopeless," were the actual words he'd said to me.

Tris takes in our surroundings as we wait at the front of the restaurant for someone to return. "It's beautiful," she whispers. The walls are the original exposed brick, preserved carefully. The tables and booths throughout the restaurant and covered with red and white checkered tablecloths. The windows are arched around the top, giving it an old school feel and lots of natural lighting. There are white string lights near the tops of the walls that would almost look like tacky Christmas lights if it didn't fit in so well with the other décor in the restaurant. The chairs and booths are dark wood, almost hiding all of the scars and marks from being so well used.

As far as serving ware, nothing matches. I know from experience that the back of the kitchen is filled with all sorts of cups, plastic and glass, and plates in different patterns, sizes, and styles. Every time they needed to replace something, they just ordered whatever they felt like, whether it matched what they currently had or not. And despite the fact that some people might think it made them look cheap or tasteless, most customers loved the homey feeling it gave them because we all have cracked a few plates in our lifetimes.

"Tobias!" Marco says as he appears at the front of the restaurant. His arms are raised into an open gesture, and when he gets closer, he wraps me in a hug. "Good to see you."

I return the hug, slapping Marco on the back lightly. "You too, Marco. Thanks for having us tonight."

"Us?" Marco says with a lift of his eyebrow. "Are you going to introduce me to the woman who I'm sure is your better half?" Marco looks next to me, smiling at Tris.

"Tris, this is my first boss, Marco. Marco, this is my girlfriend, Tris." I more than proudly introduce Tris as I place my hand on her back.

Tris extends her hand. "It's nice to meet you," she says.

"The pleasure is all mine," Marco insists as he pushes her hand aside and wraps her into a hug as well. "Anyone worthy of Tobias's time is certainly worthy of mine." He turns away and beckons for us to follow him, and we wind through the restaurant and up the stairway before he stops at the small private nook in the second floor. The second floor is only for storage, and Marco's office. But there's a small private room off to the side that has a wall of windows that allows you to see the skyline, and it's a beautiful secret view that very few people know about. Marco only lets his friends and family eat up here, saying it's intimate and special, and he prefers to keep it that way. Over the years, some people insisted that it would make him tons of extra money if it became an expensive seat in the house for high profile people in Chicago, but Marco has no desire to be that type of restaurant.

Tris moves towards the enormous wall of windows, taking in the lights and Marco smiles at her, seeing the way her eyes are drinking in the sight. "I will be back shortly to take your order."

I nod to him, but Tris can barely respond because her eyes are too focused on what's in front of her. I take the few steps that are between us and place my hands on her shoulders while planting a kiss in her hair.

Her hand comes to cover one of mine, and her body relaxes under the feel of my hands on her. "This is beautiful, Tobias."

"I love when you call me that," I confess.

"You do?" She turns to face me. "You've never said that."

I shrug. "It's strange. I don't like anyone else using my real name, but I like when you do."

Her hands move along my waist, then come to rest on my stomach. "I can do it more often, if you want."

I nod. "When we left for college, I realized it was an opportunity for me to be whoever I wanted. I didn't have to be Marcus Eaton's son anymore. I didn't have to be connected to him all the time." She brings a hand to my neck, slowing threading her fingers up into the back of my hair.

"I don't think I would like your father." She says it slowly but with a smile, and I return the expression. We haven't spoken much about my father, but Tris knows that he wasn't a good man, or a good father.

"Four was my number on the basketball team. As soon as we started conditioning and practicing, Zeke started calling me it, and it stuck. People knew my real name, but around campus I was just Four. And because we were in a different city, people really didn't care to find the truth."

She continues to rub my hair, but I know I need to sit to finish this story, and we should order so that we aren't interrupted. "Let's look at the menu," I say, picking one up from the table. "Whatever you think sounds good, will be. I can guarantee that much."

Tris scans the menu, but pushes it towards me. "You order. You can get us whatever you like here."

I decide quickly, already knowing what my favorite foods are on the menu. We talk casually before Marco returns to take my order, and he chuckles when he hears it. "I can't tell you how many times this kid ate that during high school," he tells Tris.

"Probably twice a week, minimum," I agree with him, smiling at the memory.

After Marco leaves, Tris turns to me. Her face is soft and patient, but I know we need to have this conversation. I'd already told her about my mom leaving; how she'd abandoned me and left me with Marcus to raise me. I knew that my father wasn't nice to my mother, but it wasn't until I was older that I put the pieces together to realize that he was abusive. "After my mom left, Marcus was worse than he'd been. He used to just leave me to my mom, and she raised me. But after she left… I realized what kind of cruel person he could be." I breathe deeply in attempt to inhale some strength to keep me going, but Tris's hand finds mine and her fingertips rub over my knuckles.

"How cruel?" she asks. She's not being invasive; she knows that if she asks questions, it will make me answer and keep me going with the conversation. So many times I've dodged it, but so many times I've also told her that I need to follow through.

"Sometimes it was physical. But it was mostly just emotional. Threats about how I couldn't screw up anything, I couldn't ruin his image to the city. He didn't do anything to raise me though." I laugh at that memory. "There was always a nanny or a babysitter or someone around. They took me to school, helped me with my homework… I even had a nanny take me to the mother-son dance in 5th grade." I shake my head at that memory, how embarrassing it was to walk around introducing my teachers to Miss Nancy, while everyone else introduced the teachers to their moms.

"What kind of business did he run?" she asks.

There have been a lot of rumors about what Marcus did with his 'corporation', and to this day, I don't know the truth from a lie. His front was that he was an investment banker, working for clients to invest their money into worthwhile businesses and ideas. But I know he did more than that. I know he found ways to hide money for people that obtained it illegally, and I know he put his money in places that the government would be unhappy to find. I share this with Tris, because I don't know how else to explain it.

"Tobias," she says quietly. "How do you know all of this?"

I run my hand over my face as I flash back to the day that Marcus had pulled me into his office and begun to share things with me. I had been 17 at the time, and I was starting to think about college, about getting out of his house and out from under his control. Basketball seemed to be my best hope, so between that, school, and working at Maggiano's, I was hardly ever home.

"He told me," I say simply. "In safer words, more or less. But I figured it out. I saw who came to our house late at night and I heard his phone conversations."

"Why did he tell you?" she asks warily, but she's smart enough to already know the answer. Her father went after people like Marcus for a living. Cold, heartless, soulless people.

"He wanted me to continue with his business. I didn't tell him no until I was leaving for college, because I didn't know what he would do to me if I told him no right away, with 9 months left in his house." I frown at the memory, being scared to stick up to my own father because I knew the punishment would be worse than going along with the business he was doing at the time.

I don't let her talk, but continue before I can't anymore. "I started spending more time here, working or even sitting in a booth and doing my homework. Marco didn't know everything, but he knew for me to be here instead of being at home, there had to be a reason. This was the last place I came before I left for college. I left here, went to Zeke's, and Hana drove us down."

"I get why you didn't want to come back." Her eyes are soft, and although her expression doesn't say pity, it shows sadness. "No one should have to have that childhood. And if you came back… you'd have to relive it."

She takes the words out of my mouth so I don't have to say them, but it's not the whole truth. "I wanted to come back, Tris. I wanted to, so bad. Zeke's dad died, and I wanted to leave with him every Friday when he came home for the weekend." The memories are painful, thinking of looking Zeke in the eye and telling him no so many times, even though he understood. Every time I did come home, Hana thanked me, knowing the risk I took at Marcus finding out, coming to look for me.

"And when we graduated, I just had an opportunity in Indianapolis and it didn't have Marcus's name all over it. There were no attachments to him, no catches, no fall backs. I didn't know if I would get that here. I felt like any job I would be offered would have to do with him and I would owe him something for it." I feel my face straining, my hands getting tense at the thoughts of everything that crossed my mind when I made the decision to stay in Indianapolis. I had felt like I was abandoning Hana, Zeke, and Uriah, the only family I'd ever really had.

"No one can blame you for that, Tobias." Her words are comforting, something I've needed to hear from someone other than myself for years. "You did what you had to do for yourself, and for anyone else involved in your life."

I nod, thinking that things cross her mind before they even cross mine sometimes. If I had moved home and met Tris, what would Marcus have done to her? How would he have affected our relationship? Would he have sabotaged us? Thankfully, I don't ever have to know that answer.

"I love you," I say as my eyes meet hers. "I'm so glad you don't ever have to experience that with me."

She slides out of her chair, makes her way into my lap, and cradles my face with her hands. Despite her small frame, her presence is filling, and the holes that have been in my life are drinking her in. "I would experience anything, as long as you were with me."

Looking at her at that moment, I could say that I am almost positive that we will experience everything together, for the rest of our lives. The only thing holding me back from letting that feeling take over my thoughts are my flaws and the things that still make me feel that Tris is above me. She's far above me on a scale that doesn't even exist, but I can't help creating in my head. When I envision it though, Tris is far above any other man, and no one could ever be quite deserving of her.

"This is going to be a good night, Tobias. That story was a bump in your road, but we're only going uphill from here." She nudges her nose with mine as she smiles, and I kiss her until I hear a soft knock at the door, announcing that someone has arrived with our food.

* * *

Finding a cab to take us home was easy as Tris stood in the street waving her arm. Any car would stop for her, cab or not. Her attitude during the rest of the meal was nothing less than ordinary, and I appreciated how she took everything I told her in stride. At some point, she'll probably have more questions, just as I will for her I'm sure. But breaking down that first bit of wall has opened up doors for me I never expected, but I am welcoming them. Sharing that part of my life was something I never expected, even with previous girls I'd dated or when I pictured the possibility of a wife or a long term girlfriend. I had always assumed it would stay penned up, like an animal that was ready to attack.

Tris makes that feeling melt away as she pulls me closer to her by my hand, then looping it around her shoulders. We make our way out of the cab when it stops at her apartment, and my hand finds its way to her hip while I wait for her to dig out her keys and unlock the entry door. I smack her butt as I begin to chase her up the stairs, but her giggles stop when she is in eye sight of her apartment door. I stop behind her, and only when I take a few more steps do I see what made her silent. Her apartment door has been bashed in forcefully, taking the hinge off of the wall with it.

I quickly pull my pistol out of the back of my pants, where Reynolds had instructed me to keep it when I'm off duty. He had even gone as far as telling me not to warn Tris. "If she knows I told you to carry, she'd know I'm worried about her," was all he had said, and it was enough for me to keep that one secret from her.

"Get behind me," I order, and Tris obeys. I urge her to follow me into the apartment, I clear the rooms with her closely following me. I get the feeling that she's done this before, and I'm not too surprised when we get to her bedroom and she nods towards the closet, where she opens a small locked box to reveal her own weapon.

"Ask later," she says before I can comment, and together we clear the rest of the apartment.

When we've deemed it clear and safe, she pulls out her phone and calls Reynolds. "Get here, now."

* * *

It's strange to me, seeing Tris with a weapon in her hand. She holds it casually, just like every cop I've ever worked with who handles them on a daily basis. But for Tris, this is something I'm not used to, and the sight is foreign to me.

"My dad taught Caleb and I both about guns when we were young, because he always had one in the house. He wanted us to be safe and smart." I nod. We were taught in the academy how to handle bringing your weapon home. "After my mom died, he made sure I knew how to use it. And… after he died, Reynolds made me get my own." She shrugs. "I've never really had to pull it out before."

I get up from where I've been sitting across the room and sit next to her on the couch. "I'm sorry," I whisper. "I'm sorry this happened."

Her apartment is destroyed. Things are thrown across every surface. What could be destroyed, has been. Mirrors are smashed, lamps are tipped over, and even dishes from her cabinets have been tossed on the floor. In her bedroom, her mattress is overturned and clothes are pulled from the drawers. I try not to vomit when I see that even her underwear drawer has been dug through.

I slip an arm around her shoulders and pull her upper body towards me, putting my lips on her head. "We'll figure it out," I mumble against her, and I can feel her nod.

When Reynolds comes barging through the doorway faster than either of us expected, she pops up, and he takes her by the shoulders. "I'm going to fucking handle this," he says flatly. "This is too fucking far," he adds as he glances around.

"What about your house?" she questions him. "They're probably looking for something we have."

He scoffs. "They come to my house, they're in for a fucking surprise."

He doesn't elaborate, and I don't want to ask, so I just nod my head towards the kitchen. "You should look on the table." It's the only words I can manage without showing the fear I genuinely have in front of my boss.

Reynolds glances at both of us before turning and going into the kitchen. "What the fuck?" he yells, and I know he's seen exactly what we saw, which is a thin line of perfectly cut cocaine on the table. It's a taunt, and whoever put it there knows Tris's history and is using it to scare her or threaten her.

When he returns to the living room, he's pacing, and I can almost feel the anger radiating off of his body. "Don't leave. I want you to find a way to fix the door so it stays fucking shut. Don't let anyone in here. Don't go anywhere. Don't touch anything. I will call you, and if I can't, Amar will. But until you hear from us, lay low."

Tris stands with her arms crossed against her chest. "I can go with you. I can do whatever you need me to do!"

He stops in front of her. "I love you, kid, and you're staying right here." He shakes off the glare she's shooting him and kisses her on the head, nodding at me before he storms out of the doorway.

* * *

TRIS

I wake up in the morning on the couch, nestled against Tobias. His legs extend onto the coffee table and he's still sitting halfway inclined on the couch. On the table next to him are our weapons, and I shudder at the thought of last night before curling up a little closer to him.

After my dad died, and we discovered what was really going on, there were a lot of nights that I was scared. Even when I lived near campus and away from what was really going on in the city, I felt unsafe. Weapons weren't allowed on campus or in campus apartments, so when I felt really uneasy, I went and slept at Amar's or Reynold's, hiding in the safety of their presence. When I'd gotten my own apartment after graduation, the first thing Reynolds did was take me to apply for my permit and buy a handgun, insisting that one day I could need it, and he'd rather be safe than sorry.

There were nights I had pulled it out, mostly from paranoia or worry, checking every room in my house like he'd taught me. But it had been a long time since I had done that and I would be lying if I said Four's presence in my house didn't have anything to do with the reasoning for that.

I sigh at the thought of how my life has felt more complete, more whole, since he has entered it. He stirs beneath me and even though I can tell he's not fully awake, his hands lightly rub my back and the feeling is beyond comforting. I pull myself up closer to him and lightly kiss his neck, trailing my lips up to his jaw as I hear him begin to sigh.

"Good morning," he whispers.

"Is it?" I ask, unsure about my feelings from last night's events.

"With you, always."

His words make me blush, regardless of how often I may hear them. "Did we get any calls?" I ask, because without asking I know he was up most of the night keeping watch over me. While it had taken me a while to calm down, I had finally curled up next to him and crashed unexpectedly.

"No." I can hear the disappointment in his voice as much as I can feel it in my stomach. I want to know what's going on, hear from Reynolds and receive good news, but instead we are stuck here waiting.

"Lay down," I urge him as I sit up and force his legs onto the couch. "You need to rest."

He agrees with a moan, and then pulls me closer to him. "Will you stay awake… in case…?" he asks hesitantly, and I nod in agreement, cradling his head on my lap.

"Of course."

It's only a matter of moments before he's drifted off to sleep, and I'm left to wait for our phone call.


	16. Epilogue

**Here it is! The epilogue! Hope you enjoy it!**

 **Someone asked in a past review if Marcus was dead, and yes he is. I believe Tobias mentions it in chapter 4, that he finally felt he could come back after Marcus died.**

* * *

EPILOGUE

TOBIAS

I sit on the stage in my dress uniform, scanning the crowd for the sparkling gray eyes that I know will be there, somewhere, searching for me in return. I've memorized the way she looks in her long, black gown, with the high neck and sleeveless arms. I hadn't seen it on her until we were dressing for the evening and my jaw immediately dropped. I'll never get tired of admiring Tris and the way she looks.

I'm slightly nervous in front of this large crowd without Tris next to me, but I know that she'll be joining me up here soon to pin my new rank on my uniform, which is the reason I'm placed up on this stage already. The Police Officer's Ball has been a long-standing tradition in Chicago, and Tris has attended every one of them with either her father, Amar or Reynolds since her mother passed away. This is also the one time a year that they honor the promotions and I am up here because I have been promoted to Sergeant.

Despite my promotion, I'm still serving under Reynolds, who is now a Lieutenant, in Intelligence. I have no plans on leaving the unit or moving my way up through the ranks of the department. Being a part of Intelligence, along with my life with Tris, has finally provided me with the family that I never had. It's strange, counting on people for fatherly advice or looking to them as an example when things get difficult, and I never thought I would have someone nodding at me in approval during the positive moments. But now, I do.

When my eyes finally find Tris, she's talking to an older gentleman, a Chicago police officer I don't recognize, probably retired, but high-ranking based on the number of chevrons on his dress uniform. I immediately know she's talking about me, as her arm gestures up towards the stage and an all-too-proud smile spreads across her face. When she finally turns her head towards me, her eyes catch mine. I can almost see her stomach cave as her breath hitches at the sight of me. But what makes my breath hitch is what I see on her left hand as it moves around and the light catches a glint off of the rings on her third finger, the ring finger. A wedding band followed by the engagement ring I gave her when I asked her to marry me.

When Reynolds had finally called us that day, the only thing he would tell us was that it was "over". He had shown up at Tris's apartment and she had collapsed into him while Amar moved towards me.

"I can't really tell you what we did," he'd admitted, and I could only nod in response. If I had known, I wouldn't have been able to keep it from Tris, even if I didn't know whether or not she could handle the burden of knowing the full truth.

I had listened while Reynolds talked softly to Tris, softer than I'd ever heard him speak to her. "It's over, Tris. I promise, it is all over, and we're done."

She had sobbed, and for the first time I heard a confession out of her that I would grow to hear more often in the future. "I just miss my dad."

To this day, I still don't know what Amar and Reynolds did after Reynolds left Tris's apartment after the break in. I'm not sure I can handle knowing the truth myself, knowing the risks they probably took and the danger they were in. All that Tris and I know is that a few days later, charges were brought against Jeanine Matthews, the former mayor, and the former Chief of Police for conspiracy, murder, and a slew of other crimes that they had committed. On top of that, several 2-Lords and a few officers who had aided Jeanine were arrested for their connections and participation in the murder of Andrew Prior, among other crimes. Every single person had been found guilty.

The only downside of the entire situation was that Tris' past drug use became common knowledge in the community because of the publicity that surrounded the case. With the support of the Chicago Police Department, who took her word about what had happened, she was able to push it into the past, and eventually people stopped discussing it, though they still continue to discuss Jeanine Matthews.

During all the turmoil, I had gone to Dauntless with the key I now carry for it, which Tris had slipped on my key ring casually one day. I'd removed the décor from one area of the back wall and hung a small frame with a photo of Andrew Prior in it. Words were not necessary, I deemed, and Amar and Reynolds had come to hang pictures of a couple of other Chicago police officers they had lost over the years, too. When Tris saw it, she had smiled with tears in her eyes, and although the reason for the wall is heartbreaking, she adores the fact that this is where people come to honor those officers that have died, that their photos and memories will live eternally on this wall. Since then, it has only grown as people have pinned pictures of other officers that they long to remember.

We were never able to stay at her apartment again, so after extending my lease for a couple of months, we found an apartment in a mutual location that suited us both well. It was close enough for Tris to walk to and from Dauntless, and I could easily make my way to and from the precinct. Relying on the help of our friends, Tris and I were able to get her belongings out of her apartment quickly and almost painlessly, locking it up with the sour memories she'd had there.

It had only taken me another eight months to ask her to marry me, and even then I was bursting at the seams. To me, it seemed silly to continue to have a girlfriend when I knew she was the only woman, the only person, who could continue to push me and better me every day without tiring. We both continue to screw up at times, but we have become better at communicating and even better at making up, which helps in all departments.

Before I asked her, I had spoken to both Amar and Reynolds knowing that I couldn't speak with her father and it didn't seem appropriate to speak to Caleb. With a churning in my stomach, I had asked both of them for their blessing to marry Tris, hoping that they would be happy enough to condone us taking the next step. Amar had smiled and slapped me on the back as he pulled me into a hug. "There's no one else that I'd ever say yes to," he'd said with a smile.

Reynolds had smiled from across his desk, looking at me with a smug and knowing look. "That means you're stuck with us, you know," he had said, gesturing to him and Amar. "You aren't going anywhere now." I knew he was joking and I couldn't help but smile in return.

"That's not really anything to complain about it," I had responded. I loved my job, and I was grateful for the opportunity to be a part of it.

I had asked her casually one day, as we were walking through Maggie Daley Park after a brief run. I had thought of many ways of asking her, such as sneaking a ring into Johanna's popcorn or taking her to a fancy restaurant to proclaim my love. But none of those things seemed perfect enough for Tris, who hated unnecessary romantic gestures and over the top dates. I knew that all she needed was to simply hear how deep my feelings were for her with the promise that I'd always be there.

As we walked through the park, I pulled her towards me with an arm around her shoulders. "Sometimes when I think back on who I was, what my life was before I left Chicago, it's almost unbelievable how blessed I am now."

She had blushed at the comment and given me a shy smile, as she still does no matter how long we've been together. "You're the best thing to ever happen to me, too. You know that right?"

Typical Tris . . . to dodge a compliment by doling one out herself. "That's my line," I had said softly from above her. By then I'd paused at a bench and so I pulled her down with me, nestling her in my lap as she turned her head towards me.

"I think it's a good thing we have the same feelings towards each other," she had said.

I remember swallowing thickly, trying to push the nervousness out of my body so I could do this without screwing up.

"I hope we do," my voice had said shakily. "Because if that's true, you'll say yes to marrying me." I then clumsily pulled the ring box out of my pocket, where it had been zipped safely during our run.

Her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open, but I urged the box into her hands and when she opened it, I could see her hands were shaking too. A breathy "oh, my gosh" had escaped her mouth while I sat, waiting nervously for her answer, for it seemed like an eternity.

"Tris?"

Her eyes moved up to mine.

"This is the part where you say yes or no."

"Yes! Yes, you stupid, fucking moron! What else would I say?" She had said it excitedly, with a smile I'll never forget, as she slipped her arms around me and kissed me in a way I'll also never forget.

We were only engaged for ten months, and although it had been in the papers and was somewhat a public affair that we were engaged, Tris had insisted that she wanted something private and intimate, nothing fancy or over the top, which was fine with me. There were very few people I truly cared to share our moment with anyways.

So ten months after our day in the park, at a park in the suburbs, we made promises to each other that I didn't think I'd ever be able to make to anyone. With Tris, there's no doubt in my mind that I will honor her forever, cherish her forever, love her forever. And in all honesty, I don't doubt Tris' feelings and the sincerity in her promises either. This feeling of contentedness is new and heart-warming for me and I don't know how I ever lived without it now that I have it.

I feel a hand on my shoulder as I'm brought back to the present day. It belongs to the Chief of Police, who's been standing next to me for who knows how long while I've been living in my memories. "You're a lucky man," he says looking from me to Tris, and I nod with a smile.

"I know that, sir. Trust me."

He chuckles. "I can tell that by the way you've been watching her across the room."

It makes me blush a little, but not really. I don't have to be embarrassed because I was admiring my wife, who deserves to be admired every day.

As the ceremony begins, everyone takes their places. Tris sits at our table next to my empty chair with Reynolds and Amar on the other side of her. Zeke, Shauna, George and Tori are across from her, and I can see Zeke proudly smiling up at me from his seat. He and Shauna are currently engaged, planning a larger wedding than Tris and I had to include more family and friends.

At the table behind them are Christina and Will, whose relationship has grown more serious over the years and is happily condoned by Uriah, who has remained one of Tris' closest friends along with Christina. Attending with Uriah is his mother, Hana, who would never miss a chance to show her pride in her "three boys" as she so often refers to all of us. With them are two younger officers Uriah and Will are currently training to take over their positions because Reynolds is always pulling them up to work Intelligence cases with us.

The speeches barely register in my head, because I'm nervous and also too focused on the beautiful woman that sits across the room and somehow is here for me. Not just today, but every day. Tris is completely dedicated to me and supports me, even though I have a career she originally wanted to escape from.

When they begin awarding the promotions, I listen to the names of my well-deserving fellow officers and applaud each one. And when it's my turn for my name to be called, I see Tris make her way up the side of the stage, lightly lifting her long, black gown to prevent her from tripping. As she comes before me and smiles, the lights from the high ceiling bounce off of everything; her earrings, the jewels on her dress, and even her ring are shining brightly. But as I look at her and she reaches her hands out to pin my new rank onto my uniform, I'm reminded that nothing could ever be as beautiful as her, whether she's dressed in a fancy ball gown or just her pajamas at home, and I am beyond blessed that I get to look at her every day for the rest of my life.

I lean in and kiss her lightly as they announce me as "Sergeant Tobias Eaton," even though no one else has leaned in to kiss their wives or show any other displays of affection. But I don't really care about breaking the rules for her, because in my lifetime there will never be enough opportunities to kiss Tris Prior.

* * *

 **I just want to give a big thank you to everyone who took the time to read, comment, etc. I have enjoyed hearing from all of you & I hope I'll continue to hear from you as I continue to share.**


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